#PICK THAT LITTLE GUY UP U UNFORGIVABLE FUCK

[fooltofancy]

the alliance raid writing room sitting around considering how they're gonna make these raids emotionally impactful in comparison with the Many Expansions Exploring Ascian Involvement like hm. what if. instead of that.

little guy big eyes.

[hotluncheddie]

omg it's been said before but your autistic Steve series is so good so life affirming so precious to me..... and so I would like to share my own thoughts on the matter...... Steve who did sports bc he had so much excess energy!! and now he gets the zoomies all the time and needs NEEDS to get outside and run around when the weather is nice...... Steve who thinks he's unforgivably strange and unlovable without his perfectly crafted mask and Robin who says she likes him better without it!!!!.... Steve hyperfixations (feat Steve who reads and frequents the library my beloved, he's so casually curious it just makes sense with his characterization I think)...... Steve full body stimming with Eddie or Robin and feeling amazing!!!!!...... Steve who has set up his space Exactly The Way He Likes It.....

love and light to you ♥️💋🥞🏄🏻

lovely 2jug2head!!! hello!!! ur so sweet!!!

but autistic steve!!! my love!! my guy!!! yesssss!!!! these are all so good! so sweet and lovely and perfect!!! ty for sending me this!!!

(sorry this reply took a little to get too, i've been on my freak shit but finally got few ideas down for u <3)

i think steve would take time learning what stimming and being overstimulated and understimulated means. i think after the upside-down especially, but a lot before that too, he got too used to detaching, kind of separating from his body in order to survive. so now, sometimes, he gets these itches and urges and weird feelings and he just doesn’t know what to do about it. [and i think sport definitely helped him in the past, but i dunno if he would make that connection right away.]

but, he watches robin flap her arms with her sweater sleeves covering her hands. and watches eddie get fucking breathless head banging to a song. he sees robin skip to his car at the end of a shift, looking up at the sky and letting out a 'AHH!' with so so much feeling, cheeks flushed and eyes bright that the day is done, getting in and fiddling with the radio like it’s no big deal. he watches eddie jiggle his leg and bite his rings and stand up and pace when he's talking about something he loves. and steve tries them.

he tries all of them.

he fists his hands and shakes them until something dislodges in his chest, till he can finally take a full breath. he sings loudly along to bruce springsteen and wham in his car in the mornings, sometimes not ever really singing, just making noise. he jumps around his room with robin when she plays blondie, he asks eddie to show him how to head bang, tries it and laughs and kisses him breathless when the song ends. he gives robin his keys and takes off running in a lap around the building after work, sometimes near sprinting, sometimes circling five, six times, going till he's panting and the faces of all the people he had to see that day are washed away, until he can't feel the plastic on his fingers, can't smell the bleach or the too much cologne some guy used. until he's reset, until he's him again, not theirs, not who anyone wants him to be. until he feels good again, lets himself feel good.

sometimes, now, he jiggles his leg the same way eddie does, at the same time, until robin says she has to move 'feel fuckin' seasick over here with you two goblins.' and eddie just laughs. and steve can curl up into his side, if he wants, can pick up eddies hand and bite his rings if he feels like it, eddie would let him, maybe call him cute, wouldn't judge him. neither of them would, if he did that, if he did more. they would never, and its so nice.

<3

["Steve who thinks he's unforgivably strange and unlovable without his perfectly crafted mask" ;-; that's my fcuking GUY. he would and its so :(( !!!! ]

but yeah, robin would hate that fake plastic smile he puts on to mask sometimes. and she'd tell him, with so much love. 'stop it. show me you.' because she just wants to be with steve.

but she’s so wonderful, he just, she gets it. sometimes things that he didn’t even know were bothering him will build and he’ll snap and rant and moan to finally get it all out. lungs heaving as he empties everything out before her. but she’ll just look at it, and seem to place it all in a way that makes sense, a way that’s small and fits in his pocket. she’ll say ‘woah yeah, that seems like a lot / would be stressful / i’m not surprised you're overwhelmed’ and it’s just. it’s so simple. he’s seen, he’s listened too and validated. it still makes him pause, in stunned silence, and it’s like there’s a plaster placed on his heart with every instance that it happens. sometimes it seems to strike such a chord it's like it's hitting a deep wound that he buried inside, a scab finally healing and falling away. sometimes it makes him sob in her arms, overwhelmed and amazed and so so moved by this person he's met, this wonderful angelic creature that he gets to call his.

the next time he has his super masked, customer service face on when its just the two of them, she threatens to bite him. and steve smiles for real, laughs, feels another plaster sticking over the others.

<3

and steve library frequenter yes yes!! i agree that he is curious and practical and i think a hands on kind of guy! so i think he goes to the library and gets books about cars. i think he likes learning about how to fix his, trying to understand what could go wrong, how it happens, what you do in different scenarios. i think that's something him and eddie and wayne bond over, helping to fix their cars. steve and eddie even work together to do up wayne's van a little, getting it a new bumper and a couple parts scavenged at the junkyard. it's fun for him to work out what's missing, what’s changed, how and why and then putting it into practice. taking something apart and putting it back together. makes him feel proud of himself, something he really doesn't feel often. makes his brain zone in and flow and focus for a couple hours and it just feels so nice, its a happy time for him.

also, speaking of special interests - ✨sport stats✨. steve can name the players of all the basketball teams currently playing professionally, likes watching the tactics shows that come on before and after the games. likes talking at eddie and explaining why its actually really cool that they swapped out that player to give this new guy a chance, he's big news, a young up and comer and has a really interesting play style, its gonna work well with how their current manger organises the court. and eddie just smiles at him, squeezing steves hand in his lap and trying to understand what he sees on screen, follow along (he struggles to take in all the information, it's just not his thing. but it makes him so happy when he watches steve watch.) and steves happy little keens when something interesting happens, mindlessly fiddling with eddie’s fingers and tapping his other hands fingers against his knee, 1, 2, 3, 2, 4, 2. relaxed and focused and sometimes he rocks when it gets really tense and eddies heart bursts.

because it wasn't always like that, it was a struggle and a near pleading for eddie to just get steve to tell him what he likes, talk to him, get to know him. to just let eddie in. because eddie wanted to know everything and steve just didn't know how to deal with that. why would eddie care? no one ever listens to him. he's embarrassing and annoying and gets to loud and eddie doesn't like sports so why would steve tell him anything? it took soft words and gentle encouragement and reassurance again and again that he's listening, he wants to listen, wants to know. 'always, always wanna listen to what you have to say stevie.' so when steve comes over to the trailer after work, talking about the latest switch they announced in the paper, how last nights points shifted the league around and now he doesn't even know who's going to win, isn't that cool? eddie fucking beams because this is his boy. his bright, beautiful, exited baby and he’s talking to eddie, he's letting eddie see him.

<3

steve and his space though. thinking very much about that. he doesn’t have the strictest schedule, he’s learning that sometimes its okay to leave the sheets for another couple days, that the dust can settle for another week before he needs to wipe it away. but some things are just, they just have to be right. he needs to know where things are, needs the important stuff in the same place every day so he doesn't forget. needs his products in the bathroom out and in order so he can keep track of when something needs replacing, so he's not left without something he needs. wants this one specific pillow at night, and one for between his knees and a duvet on year round, needs it to feel warm and safe and right in his bed.

and his clothes, its not even about the sensory stuff for him, like yeah most of his tops are soft, his jeans pretty worn in. he has some really old sweatshirts that are special, that come out on the worst days. but it's also about how clothes look, how they make him feel. he want his jeans to fit right, sit right on his shoes. wants his shirts to make his shoulders look nice, make him feel comfortable and confident and like a normal fucking person who can exist in the world. its another part of the mask, maybe. but it works and its his and most of the time he thinks he looks good. and that's okay. he's learning and its healthy and its practical and it helps.

but he also adores wearing eddies t-shirts. when he's at home all day or to sleep at night. especially if eddies not there, when steve misses him, when he wants him. steve wears eddies t-shirts to bed. they're all ones eddies left after staying, they're old and soft and the tags have been cut out and they smell like eddie. like his eddie. like he's there. steve loves it, wraps himself up in it, helps him feel soothed and taken care of even if he's alone, maybe its a little sad, makes him feel embarrassed, too much. but he's learning not to care.

sometimes eddie talks to him and touches him in a certain special way that makes steve feel so so foggy and taken care of and amazing. so, if eddie's not there but he craves that foggy feeling, steve wears eddies t-shirts and he speaks to himself like eddie would and he makes himself dinner and looks after himself and tucks himself into bed and rubs the fabric of the collar against his nose. and tries not to feel embarrassed if he needs more, if he has to suck on his fingers/thumb for a while, clutching the fabric in his hand. tries to let himself whimper or even cry a little if he needs, at how nice it feels, how gooey and needy he can allow himself to get. accept it as part of himself, that eddie likes it, still likes him, still loves him. just something he needs sometimes. and steve falls asleep, wearing eddies t-shirt.

<3

gonna tag a few people who might want to see, hope that's okay? wanna spread him around and show him off!! look at him!!! our best guy!!!

@pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @spectrum-spectre @just-a-tiny-void @steventhusiast @cherrychapsticksteve @lil-gremlin-things @finntheehumaneater @irethsune

[spatio-rift]

mar... can u catch me up on inazuma lore because i dont know very much about endou *smiling brightly*

hi lab yes of course im no expert on endou tbh but i will try my best!!

as far as inazuma characters go endou doesnt have too much going on but i think its a good thing for him. hes THE protagonist, raimons captain who sets the whole thing into motion. hes also the grandson of a very famous, legendary soccer player and coach who was the goalkeeper for the national team at some point and after retiring coached another legendary-to-be team which the series is named after (though these guys were middle schoolers)(and also never won any competitions... it was kageyamas fault he made them have a bus accident and stuff (he was also a middle schooler)). but his grandpa passed away before he was born (kageyama again, around ambiguously the same age..."ambiguously" because i can never tell if it was from the bus accident or some other incident. but shits crazy) so he never really knew him, and thats kind of why he picks up soccer: its the one connection he has to his dead grandpa. (though his mom is really against it at first because she thinks its what killed her dad)

now of course he doesnt play only to feel close to him he genuinely develops an intense passion &love for the game (while staying hilariously oblivious about everything going on in the soccer world. he doesnt know any famous players or anything). the first part of ina11 is about how he wants to bring his ragtag soccer team to the top by winning this one famous middle school soccer competition its pretty simple. i feel like its kind of refreshing in a way that his motivations are fully about his passion of the game despite the crazy plot with kageyama, while still feeling like a part of the whole thing since kageyama "murdered" his grandpa (hes not actually dead but we dont know this until much later) and bc of his intense grudge against him he wants to crush endou and raimon specifically so fucking bad. but it never really becomes about stopping kageyama for endou which is nice to me. he just really loves ball

endous not the brightest guy around, but his pure, free love of the game and very genuine & trusting disposition inspire everyone to rally behind him and root for him. i think the way he trusts and believes in people is definitely one of his strong points and being given that sort of support or a second chance like this really helped/saved a handful of characters in the series. hes just a guy you can help but yearn to be friends with or play ball genuinely with :) (but while his tendency to give people a second chance or trust suspicious people as long as they love soccer might make him look like an airhead its important to note that he still has limits and there are still things he considers unforgivable. i think that makes him feel more real and also seeing him get angry about certain things makes his trust in and ability to forgive other characters hit that much harder instead of being mere words)

now coming back to his grandpa. a huge part of his character imo is following in his grandpas footsteps, kind of inheriting his legacy by learning all the moves his grandpa came up with, training the way he did, etc... and quickly after the first game/season were asked the question of whether its good for him to continue just imitating his grandpa. what is..........interesting though, is that the 2nd and 3rd game kind of both deal with it... but in completely different ways?

ie2 proposes pretty early on that being a goalie isnt the only path open to endou. that just because his grandfather was a goalkeeper doesnt mean that endou has to be as well. and then later we meet tachimukai, a cute little first year whos a big fan of endou and even switched from midfielder to goalkeeper to imitate him. the thing is, as we are soon explicitly told, tachimukai has a LOT more natural talent as a goalkeeper than endou does, and he masters his grandpas ultimate move like its nothing. he was born to play this position basically, which eventually leads to tachimukai being asked to play gk for raimon instead of endou. and endou has very mixed feelings about this, because while hes genuinely happy for tachimukai, he cant say that hes delighted about leaving the position that connected him to his grandpa (and he also practiced that ultimate move on his own in secret at night, even though tachimukai already had it so the team had no use for a second player to master it). but at the same time, hes grown close enough to his team and as a player that he doesnt need to play the same position as his grandpa to feel connected to him like hes still got their shared love of soccer. ok this is getting long but basically i love this because endou ends up growing a lot and setting off on his own unique path and it also leaves a significant role for tachimukai to play (who otherwise never gets to do anything since there cant be two goalies in one match, and endou is the protag).

and it couldve continued to be explored in the next game since instead of going back to a school vs school type thing, where endou and tachimukai wouldve faced each other as goalkeepers on opposite sides, its a world tournament so just like ie2, players from all over japan coming together as one team representing the country. but.... ie3 completely abandons that idea and instead benches tachimukai forever, because endou is back as a goalie and the way to deal with that issue of only following in his grandpas footsteps instead gets turned into a "endou needs to come up with his own special move" thing. and i mean the way its written isnt bad or anything but i certainly like it a lot less than what ie2 had going on that involved tachimukai!!!!

errmm i might have gone a little off topic there and also its getting really long and i dont really have much more to say. my memory of s3/ie3 is pretty fuzzy atp cuz its been a while so i cant say much about what kind of character development he gets cuz i didnt really pay attention (its the kidou disease). but he does meet his grandpa again. erm ok thats enough i hope this was informative enough !!! hes a sweet lad

[k9wa]

𑣲 A GUY THAT I’D KIND OF BE INTO. featuring rindou haitani.

• SYNOPSIS : rindou, your friend since childhood, is listening to you vent your frustrations over some guy you’ve been silently crushing on and realizes holy shit—you’re talking about him.

• CONTENT : unreq love, mild angst, gn reader (“they” used like twice,) a bit dialogue heavy, might be a little ooc i've never written rindou before ...soz...

• NOTE : rindou baby im so sorry i did this to u. ib a bmc song because i have no hoes or something

rindou haitani had been your friend since you were both children. 

you weren’t best friends by any means, but you’d gone to school together since your middle years, and those days upon days of having classes together or being seated next to one another had led to an inevitable friendship between the two of you. not that you were complaining, you liked having him around more than you thought you would.

it was only natural that once befriending rindou, you were introduced to his brother, ran, who was a year older than you. thus, the trio that was the haitani’s and their plus one was created.

rindou had always been the one you gravitated towards the most, maybe because you were the same age as him. he was the one you would find somewhere in the halls when you wanted to whine over homework or teachers when you were younger, which eventually blossomed into complaints over exams and college prep during lunch behind your highschool. you clicked with him easier, enjoyed his company when he was around and it was something he reciprocated. 

of course you enjoyed being around ran as well, and the times where you three would be together as a group (which to be fair, was more often than not) were some of your favourite, you were never quite as close with him. it was likely due to his brother always stealing you away when he got the chance, and being the older one he saw the signs before they were even visible.

open scene to the aforementioned younger brother laying horizontally on your bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone while you sat parallel at your desk, textbook and laptop long abandoned for playing with your pencil and leaning your head over the back of your chair.

get-togethers outside of school were a fairly fresh development in your friendship with rindou, only having started about halfway through your second year of highschool. rindou would still sometimes get a tad bit…awkward when he stepped into your home, and it never failed to make you chuckle.

“okay, spit it out already. fuck’s wrong?”

rindou’s voice cut through the silence draped over your room like a weighted blanket. he'd been watching you chew at your lips and listening to you tap that damn mechanical pencil against every surface within range, it got on his nerves.

truth be told, he was more nosey to know what you were visibly hung up on than anything.

“eh?”

you halted your fiddling, attention refocusing on rindou who had rolled onto his stomach, palm holding up the weight of his head from his chin while his elbow crushed one of your poor stuffed animals.

“y’look like someone just killed your puppy. and you’re doin’ that thing where you fidget with shit when you think.”

when had he gotten so observant of your nervous habits? you pouted.

“i don’t look like that.”

“you do.”

“do not.”

rindou stared at you, you stared at rindou. 

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to him about it. you told him quite a lot already, at least considering your friendship had always been primarily in school. what had you hesitating, thinking over your words and proceedings more carefully, was that he was directly involved with the very thing that had you so…squirmy.

rindou was quick to pick up on your reluctance. as much as he wanted to know what was going on in that head of yours, it's not as if he was gonna pry into it to see what was running on the hamster wheel he was sure you had in there.

“...uh, you don’t have t'a—”

“you’re gonna think it’s stupid.”

an unforgiving snort was all you got in response.

“you bein’ a dumbass isn’t exactly breaking news.”

“ill kill you, haitani.”

the tense eye contact— well, tense on your part— continued. 

god, you hated how he was persuasive without even trying.

“okay, just listen, ya?”

his eyes followed as you stood from your desk chair and made your way over to the bed beside him. you flopped down tiredly, back against the mattress while your eyes traced the various posters on the ceiling, the shape of the windowsill towards your feet, generally anywhere that wasn’t in rindou’s direction.

“i’m listening.”

he watched you open and close your mouth like a fish out of water, waiting patiently (though it was a thin and fragile patience) for you to find the words to begin.

“so, imagine there this person,”

he nodded.

“and you’ve known them since you were kids,”

he nodded again.

“and you’ve never been like– crazy close with him, but you’ve always seen them as a friend regardless.”

rindou nodded again.

…him?

…oh.

he saw where you were going.

you hadn’t even realised you’d allowed the pronoun to slip, tossing all anonymity out the window and revealing that the troubles you were about to vent were actually over a guy.

but rindou did, and he couldn’t stop his tongue from running itself over his front teeth, licking them as he tasted an all too familiar flavour of bitterness on his taste buds. 

rindou’s feelings towards you were complicated in their own way. 

he was aware he had emotions regarding you that were, well, less than platonic. he was aware that it had started when you met in your second year of middle school, when he was seated beside you in history and you’d teased him for his coloured hair and offered to share your pack of chips with him in the same sentence. it wasn’t a jaw dropping first impression, not something outright unique or exceptional, but it stood out to rindou. you stood out to rindou.

he didn’t have plans to really… do anything about any of it though, it was always something he preferred to keep buried deep in the home you’d made yourself in his gut. he wasn’t even sure if he had the set of emotional skills to—

“you still following?”

rindou blinked. fuck, he wasn’t listening

“yeah, keep goin’.”

he’d just have to fill in the blanks.

“it’s like– i don’t even know when i started seeing him like that.”

you’d given up on the vagueness regarding the neutral pronoun you used prior.

“maybe it’s just ‘cus we’ve both gotten older?”

who were your other friends again? perhaps he could use the process of elimination to single out who you were talking about.

“any time we eat lunch together, or i pass him in the halls it…picks at my brain. dunno when it even started.”

rindou thought, shuffling through the filing cabinet of his memory to try and remember who your other friends were. but upon thinking about it, he hadn’t seen you eat lunch with anyone else outside of him and ran since you’d formed your little trio.

“we have gotten closer over the last couple months. maybe it’s something t’do with that.”

…and then he thought more.

who had you known since you were a kid, that you’d started growing closer with recently, who you also frequently ate lunch with and—

“it’s like he went from this guy that i’d never usually be into…”

oh shit—

“to this guy that i'd—like—kind of be into?”

were you talking about him?

he cursed the way he felt the smallest sliver of hope start to rise in his chest. it was coincidental, you had other friends, other people you’ve known for the amount of time you have him, he’d be grasping at the smallest of straws to think anything differently.

your eyes met his when you looked up expectantly for an answer.

“that is pretty fuckin’ stupid.”

typical rindou.

you smacked his bicep with the back of your palm, rindou snorted again.

it wouldn’t hurt to test the waters just a little bit, right? to see if his sneaking suspicion was correct? 

“so, who’s this guy anyway?”

“pfft, like i’d ever tell you.”

it was rindou’s turn to smack you, he was rewarded with the sound of your laugh falling on his ears.

“so yer’ gonna talk my ear off and then not even tell me who the fucker is? you’re lame.”

“you wanted to know what was wrong!”

mission failed. 

the room fell into a silence, not quite awkward, yet not quite comfortable, just calm. rindou didn’t know how to push the subject any further without either giving himself away entirely or coming off as some nosey freak, so he begrudgingly decided he was better off to try and drop it entirely.

“do you think it’d be worth it to tell him?”

you were the one breaking the quiet this time around. rindou sighed and dropped his head, his face meeting the crinkles of fabric in your duvet.

“fuck if i know.”

“cmon, help me out here.”

“it'd help if i knew who the hell you’re talkin’ about.”

“you seriously haven’t figured it out?”

those words made rindou's witty response catch in his tonsils. the more you went on, the more the little voice in his head said: ‘thats me, they’re talking about me, they have to be,’ the more you went on the greater the need to know if you were really talking about him inflated and grew.

“…why don’t you just tell ‘em if it’s such a pain in your ass?”

you hummed.

“i don’t wanna jeopardise our friendship, i guess. i like having him around too much.”

rindou lifted his head in time to catch a glimpse of the warm smile dawning on your lips.

“that's why i'm asking you. do you think the risk is worth it?”

yes, rindou thought. for fucks sake, take the risk, he wanted to scream it as loud as he could.

“sounds like it.” he began slowly, swallowing a breath. “think i know who you’re talkin’ about now too.” 

“it's about time.”

his chin returned to his palm. 

“wanna hear you say it, though.”

you groaned, mimicking his position by rolling into your stomach as well, the two of you laying shoulder to shoulder. rindou could feel the knot in his stomach tighten.

“you’re an ass.” the cow plush you’d hidden your face into absorbed your words. you supposed it was harmless to tell him at the point you’d gotten to. the proverbial cat was proudly sunning itself in the windowsill, there was zero chance he didn’t know who you were talking about. he was pulling your leg the same way he always did. teasing you.

“fine.”

rindou couldn’t control the way his palms began to sweat, directly contrasting his feeling of…cockiness? certainty? whatever the better term was, he could feel it deep in his chest, threatening to push past his ribs.

“i'm talking about…” 

he waited, listened to you huff, listened to you swallow to try and shove down your doubts, watched your fingers play with the tag of your stuffed animal, he knew the word that would come next;

‘you.’

“ran.”

exactly as he—

…what?

…you—

…you had a thing for ran?

if you had looked up at all, decided to remove your face from the cow print protecting you from what you assumed was some kind of shit eating grin, you would have seen the way rindou’s face drained of all colour.

rindou couldn’t speak, he couldn’t do anything. 

he felt like such a fucking idiot. 

of course it’s ran, he thought. 

why wouldn’t it be ran? 

it's always ran.

your room began to feel like it was shrinking around him, like it was suffocating him just being there. he became so hyper aware of your shoulder pressed against his, the smell of you overtaking his senses in a way he never thought he would hate as much as he did.

where you expected teasing, and rindou’s jokes, you were met with…nothing. a heavy stillness that could be felt in your bones. was he… upset? you didn’t know, your eyes were still harboured safely in your plush. now that you think about it, it was a gift he had gotten you.

you hadn’t wanted to tell him originally because you assumed it would piss him off, for the sake of possibly screwing things up between the three of you, or maybe because he wouldn’t want to be a third wheel or— or something. what you didn’t expect from rindou was the absence of a response entirely. 

finally there's some sort of feedback from rindou, a reminder of life that he’s still there beside you, but it’s the opposite of anything you could have hoped for. the weight to your right moves around, until it's removed from your bed wholly, and it finally prompts you to raise your head.

“rin?”

he doesn’t answer you, but you can hear him mutter ‘fuck this’ under his breath as he picks his bag up from your floor, fishing for his keys in his uniform pocket.

“rin, hang on a sec—“

he’s already in the hallway before you can stop him, the only option was to get up and follow him out, and that you did. you’re practically tripping down the stairs to catch up to him, too bad he was already out your front door, mounting his bike and letting the engine roar to life once you’d finally done it.

“rindou!!” you attempt to shout over the purr of his exhaust from your front door.

he's already gone, speeding away down your street and right out of your fingertips. it isn’t until he’s too far out of sight to see, to reach, to touch, you put the pieces together and understand his reaction, why he was so eager to leave. 

you fucked up.

rindou doesn’t know whether he’s fuming or he’s hurt, whether he’s disappointed in you or himself, whether he’s even able to blame anyone for this, just to give him a reason to fault anyone but himself.

the sound of cars passing him, or rather him passing them filled his hearing, the city lights of roppongi reflected off of his glasses and into his pupils, he could still smell you on his jacket; you were burned into it, left some sort of mark on it from all the times you’d held onto him while he drove you home. it made him so fucking nauseous.

he can feel his phone vibrating against his thigh, he knows it’s you. he truly considered just tossing his phone over the railing of the highway to get you away from him, out of his head.

it was always fucking ran.

rindou haitani could never hate his brother, despite his occasional admitance to disliking him. they were brothers, that's just how brothers were. 

despite the bumps in the road, or people who didn’t see their relationship for what it was, they were brothers, they always would be.

in spite of that sentiment, rindou couldn’t bring himself to look his older brother in the eye upon arriving home that night. 

when he finally entered the safety of his bedroom, rindou freed his phone from the pocket of his uniform pants he’d yet to change.

his screen was flooded with notifications, the contact name ‘+one’ written on over half of them.

he skimmed through the messages, the quiet clicking sounds from his keyboard filling the room, the messages all consisted of some sort of ‘im sorry’ or ‘i didn't know—‘ he skipped those ones, ‘pls just answer’ there was an abundance of missed calls alongside them. he turned off his phone completely.

was the chip on his shoulder deep enough to be considered a gash yet?

it was always ran.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[deadhumourist]

Real Sugar: Two days before Cassis

Pairing: Rockstar!Frankie and F!Reader, Chef AU.

Rating: M - minors go away!

Author chooses not to use warnings. This photo isn't perfect but it's the grooming and grin mentioned in the story.

Drabble - During Chapter 2 of Real Sugar, Chef invites Frankie to the restaurant, Cassis, where she is head chef. This little drabble shows what you didn't see in Chapter 2 between the invitation and the actual dinner. Part one of two drabbles. Un-beta'd, mistakes are my own.

-------

Frankie had been watching d-day draw closer all week. He was a patient man but every time he walked into his home studio he caught himself glancing at the calendar which Will had insisted they keep pinned to the wall. 

Two days to go.

Frankie shuffled into his kitchen, his worn t-shirt rumpled on his sleep-warmed body.

His soft, unruly curls stuck up in all directions from a restless night in his king size bed. 

The previous night he had stayed in the studio until 1am, long after the guys had left. Setting his bass guitar down after plucking at it listlessly, he leaned forward, elbows on the cold, unforgiving mixing panel. It demanded excellence and creativity and Frankie had little to offer it tonight.

The heel of his hand pressed to his brow, his long, nimble fingers scratched into his scalp to summon inspiration from what felt like an empty well. 

After a while he just…gave up. Grabbed his phone off the panel and switched the lights off. It seemed someone else was also awake. He opened his text messages.

Natalya: "U up?"

Frankie: "Yeah"

Natalya: Can I cum over? Wanna fuck u daddy."

There was a long pause as Frankie stared at the words. He should have been excited about sex on offer but his pulse was curiously flat. He felt…he didn't know what he felt but it wasn't sad, or melancholy. He probably just needed someone warm and soft to sink into, he reasoned. 

Natalya: "😘"

Frankie: "Yeah ok."

And hour later he was on his back, counting the sunspots on her shoulder blade as she rode him reverse cowgirl style. Her moans bounced around the walls like a discordant melody and Frankie felt something bristle under his skin. Something felt off.

In a smooth motion, he pulled her back to his front and flipped her over. Caging her under his broad frame, he elicited an excited squeal from her when he pushed into her heat again from behind. His hand fumbled against the duvet to find her clit so she could come soon. 

She turned her face halfway to him and laughed huskily through her hair. "Ahha yes Daddy. Give it to me. I want it."

He rocked up into her again and rubbed furiously over her sensitive bud, and soon she was thrashing under him, loud screams piercing the chilled early morning air in the bedroom.

As soon as she caught her breath, he got up, yanked the condom off and went to dispose of it. When he came back, she was buttoning up her dress. She winked at him and grabbed her bag, kissing him on the cheek on the way out.

He was alone again. 

This morning that fact seemed like a mercy because he didn't feel like seeing anyone. 

Groggily he poured beans into the coffee machine compartment and pressed the grind button. The machine whirred to life, whining angrily into the quiet kitchen while Frankie absentmindedly scratched his butt cheek. 

Coffee in hand he trudged back to bed. After downing the espresso, he snuggled in and fell right back off to sleep.

One day to go.

—--

Santiago had keys to Frankie's place. A fact that Frankie sometimes forgot until he spotted Santi on his couch with his 1925 Gibson L1, deep in concentration and singing under his breath as the strings moved under his calloused fingers. Santi always said picks were for kids. 

"Hola Feo!" Frankie yelled from the hallway as he heard the telltale signs of Santi's presence. 

"Buenas días mi pequeño bagre," Santi smirked. 

As Frankie rounded the corner Santi immediately saw that Frankie had trimmed his patchy facial hair. The unruly whiskers had earned him a band nickname and he was rarely clean shaven or even really groomed these days. Santi smelled a rat.

"Hermano! Going somewhere?"

Frankie turned guiltily and gave him a toothy grin. 

"Dinner tonight. Come with me, I want you to try the food, see if you like it."

Frankie had never shown a particular interest in food, often opting for sandwiches or frozen pizzas. If his belly was full, he was generally fine.

"Hmmmm, okay. Where are we going?"

"Cassis". And with that cryptic answer, Frankie disappeared down the hallway again.

His friend's excitement was palpable from where he sat. Wondering what Frankie could be up to, he picked his guitar back up and strummed while his mind worked. 

Translation: "Buenas días mi pequeño bagre = Good morning my little catfish

Comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you! <3

[rulerofstars]

strange

After a horrible day, you longed to be within the arms of your lover.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Genre: College AU, light angst, fluff (comfort)

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 1,960 words

Angel: This one’s a part of @ackermans-freedom-inc’s event (thank you, Suz, for letting me be a part of this, I love u so much). The prompt is “Take it off, slowly.” (and I personally really wanted this to focus to comfort and such because I’m stressing and the manga-) Anyway, this is the link of the masterpost if you guys want to check out other works by lovely people!

Last week has been hell, but today, everything felt excruciating. Your professor was being a shitty little bitch, your group mate spilled coffee all over your reports, your other group mate corrupted an important file, you’ve been blasted with an unbelievable amount of workload once again, the bus was full so you had no choice but to stand up and endure hell in your shoes, the loud and overwhelming car horns triggered your migraine, and you haven’t eaten since lunch. What could go wrong today?

Relief slowly crawled through your veins as you reach the door of your apartment, fingers finding their way in the small compartment of your bag, fiddling every corner, aching to feel the cold metal against your touch. But it wasn’t there.

Fuck this shit.

The cold, hard wall collided with your back as you frustratedly fished your phone from your bag. Today is shit. Awful shit. And this right here was the trigger to the ticking time bomb you’ve been trying to detonate, but here you are, so close to breaking down and ugly crying.

It was hard. Being in the University was overwhelming, it was your choice to go, of course you have your dreams. The goal of claiming your major encourage you to go beyond your own limitations and try something new. Your boyfriend lifted your spirits up, and that is why you have made it this far. But it was too much today, and probably worse tomorrow. And you needed a break.

Stress and agitation pushed you to succumb into your emotions and combust, yet you chose to keep it in.

“Please, pick up,” You pray that Levi would still be awake and that he would answer his phone. Pick up, pick up, pick u—

“Hm?” You finally heard his voice. It felt like water after a long, tiring run. His cold voice washed away every fiber of pressure and tension that tortured your mind and body with stress. He eased the anxiety that bullied you all day and replaced it with longing, and that had you.

“L-Levi. . .” You sobbed, he is all that you want right now. His embrace, arms, and comfort are what you’re yearning for. And he is always more than willing to provide you that.

Worry and concern blended with the voice that you grew fond of. “What’s wrong, (Y/N)? You okay?”

“I-” You sniffled, wiping your face with the handkerchief that he gave you, on the bottom of it was your name engraved, in his own penmanship. The stress, along with the frustrations had you frozen like ice. You couldn’t talk, and you wanted your boyfriend so bad.

“It’s alright,” He said, you sensed hurry and somehow heard the sound of movement from the line, he didn’t hang up. “I’m coming over, baby.”

Congestion bereaved you of the freedom to speak and breathe properly, and Levi knew that your nose easily gets congested whenever you cry. You aren’t even breathing through your nose anymore, and the migraine made everything much worse, you feel so pathetic.

The misadventures you have experienced that day pounded onto you like a war-hammer, unforgiving and merciless. You are well aware of how some days could be heavier than the usual, but you didn’t know that it would be this bad, and you just want to fade away. This horrible day is an alliance of every single disaster that could have happened the past weeks, but chose to occur today.

You did not notice that Levi had already arrived. His heart ached when he sees you breaking down next to your apartment door, and he immediately understood that you lost your key. His place weren’t that faraway from yours, but far enough for the both of you to miss each other whenever you part.

“Shh. . . I’m here, (Y/N),” His embrace made your tears more uncontrollable, something about his presence triggered a button in you, and you can’t stop crying, your emotions got you, and it often leaves you clueless— how this man could hold you tight and free you from any kind of anomaly you are facing. “Let’s get you inside, yeah?” He says, placing a warm kiss on the top of your head.

Your familiar scent greeted your lover’s nose the moment you’ve entered your room while gently removing both of your shoes. He taught you everything you should know when it comes to being clean, and he wanted you to be clean before coming to bed. Just so you could maximize the feeling of comfort, in his own preference.

“I’ll prepare a warm bath for you,” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead once again, wiping the tears that have escaped your eyes, and wiping it on his shirt.

Limping towards the dining table, you gently took your foot socks off. Revealing your crying, red toes, wincing slightly when the most sensitive part collided with the cold, hard floor.

It’s just a bad day, (Y/N).

Levi walked out of your bathroom door, his hoodie already gone, few droplets of water tainted his gray shirt. Upon seeing your distressed state, his heart felt discomfort seeing how puffy and swollen your eyes are. He does not have an idea how bad your day went, but he could feel the stress radiating from your being. His poor baby.

His calloused, warm hand held yours tight as he guided you to your bathroom, the mist caused by the warm steam emitted the scent of your body wash.

“You okay?” He asked, caressing your shoulders gently. Adrenaline had pushed you too much, your struggles smothered you into piles of emotional distress, and you haven’t even noticed how sore your body was.

With a grimace, you nodded. The ache of today will never be forgotten by your heart, body, and mind. It was probably the most stressful out of all, or probably not. Perhaps, it’s the day when you finally admit and concede to the heavy load you have been carrying for months. And it is okay.

You are okay.

“I got you,” Levi’s warm lips pressed against your forehead, his touch was gentle, delicate as if you were a frail porcelain teacup. “I got you, baby.”

Your body held on to his. Your lover sends serenity down the universe whenever his lips part to speak, he was too good to you, sometimes you doubt if you deserve him. A love like his is impossible to find within someone else, and for him, meeting a person like you is a once in a lifetime chance. And he is glad that he took his chance with you.

Strange was the word to describe your relationship. How bizarre it is to hold each other’s hands in a cruel world of love and war and indulge within the flames of one another without the fear of burning.

“Take this off, baby, you want me to help you?” He whispered, softly tugging onto your shirt. You nodded, cringing at the sudden pang of pain when you lifted your arms up. Levi’s hands found their way to the hem of your top, his fingers trailing your exposed skin and sending fireworks against every inch of you, guiding you while being extremely careful. “Take it off, slowly.”

Spasms of ecstasy massaged your muscles as you sat in the tub, your neck and everything underneath completely submerged inside the warm water along your favorite bath bomb. Your boyfriend knows you too well.

“Want to talk about it?” Levi asks, sitting behind you as he positioned the shower at the back of your head, softly rinsing your hair. The temperature’s perfect. Warm enough to make you sigh, and his fingers are gentle enough to make you forget about how hard the day was.

“I-I have to re-do a report and submit it tomorrow noon.” You sighed. Feeling the hot tears form once again as you remember the hard work and effort you have exerted into the project, only for it to get wiped away.

His fingers massaged your scalp, gently rubbing and running his fingers through the right spot, making your eyes flutter.

“Then I’ll help you,” He stated, rinsing your hair once again, careful not to cause the shampoo get into your eye. You already had a bad day, the least thing that he ever wanted was to inflict more stress.

Relief washed through your system when you heard what he had just said, but it might bother him. Or worse, he might have to skip a class just so he could help you with the task.

“No,” You rejected, “I-I can cram after this.” Self-doubt filled you to the brim, you knew you couldn’t. Your body, your mind, your entire system is wrecked.

“Shut up, we’re done with finals. I will help you tomorrow morning.”

Your lips formed a pout. The finality and seriousness in his voice confirmed that there is no way he is going to let you do requirements tonight. Without any kind of warning, Levi’s face was suddenly millimeters close to yours. His hot breath against your lips, the tip of his nose touching yours.

A gentle, hot kiss devoured the worries that lived in you. You submitted to the warmth of his kisses as he swallowed your soft moans, a whine escaped your lips as he pulled away, resting his forehead onto yours.

“You forgot to take care of yourself.” He said, kissing you again and swiftly draining the tub, letting the water go down as his free hand fished for your towel. A string of saliva connected your lips as he pulled away once again. “Next time, you tell me, m’kay?” He whispered, planting kisses on every inch of your face.

“I will.”

The softness of your towel enveloped your body, Levi dried you gently, so you would not get cold. Your puffy eyes and the darkness that occurred underneath them exposed how sleep-deprived you were.

“Good girl.”

With your soft gaze, parted lips, and with the eyelashes that framed the window to your soul like euphoria in gloomy skies, your lover’s heart ached for you, for how you have dedicated yourself so well for your passion. And with this, had he known, you are a fighter, you are his fighter.

“Kiss me again,” You pleaded with a hoarse voice, one hand gripped the towel that protected you from the cold, the other caressing your boyfriend’s cheek.

Sweet lips collided for a while, he had you longing for him the moment he had pulled away. “Again,” You whined, bringing yourself closer to him, and he gladly pecked your upper lip once again, the brief feeling of his skin on yours brought you to a glimpse of summer.

“Again.”

The corner of his lip rose up because of your tactics, the amusement that glinted in his steel grey eyes failed to escape your sight. And being the whipped man he is, he would never not spoil you.

“Again.”

“Stop that.”

You giggled, stealing one last kiss before getting out of the tub and following him to your bedroom. As you stared at him, you could not help but to wonder what you did to deserve this man and little did you know how much he had thought about the magic of having you, too.

What would I do without you?

Strange it is. How only one man could tame the turmoil that had you intoxicated for weeks, how Levi could love you more in days that you have hated yourself. Strange was the way he taught you to make love to your own imperfections, exactly the way you did with him. How you have grown afraid of living in the cruel reality, but never if it meant growing old with him.

Isn’t it strange?

[binniesthighs]

can u do an enemy to lovers au with han jisung where they are in a hidden fwb relationship? thank u~ 🥺

I really look some creative liberties with this one HA but the product...hehe, I hope that you enjoy it love! I also kinda accidentally made it a period piece??? Like 50′s-60′s? Idk how this happened but the vibe and the music I was listening to while writing really put me in that mood haha

blue velvet | reader x jisung |

Paring: self insert, gender neutral reader x han jisung

Genre: smut n’ angst

Tags: stripper!jisung, stripper!reader, bi!jisung, enemies (competitors) to lovers, secret relationship, friends with benefits, explicit language, mentions of alcohol, degrading names, choking, spanking, v mild spit play, unprotected sex (wrap it before you slippity slap it friends), creampie, cum eating, scratching, oral (reader receiving) semi-public sex, hello yes this one is kinda filthy ooooops

Word count: 3.2k

Recommended listening: Blue Velvet by Bobby Vinton

Fuck. It’s hot in here. Too fucking hot.

Reconnaissance. That’s what you were doing. It was fucking disgusting. Everyone in the room was just as fake as the pleather belts that held their guts in. You had never seen anything more embarrassing in your whole life. Desperation was sweating off the walls and sunk into your skin. It made you feel sick.

You scoffed and took a long sip from your drink.

“One more?” An attentive maître d' asked you--if he could even been called that in a place like this.

You covered your hand over your glass. You refused to pay for any more of that cheap tasting shit.

Next to you a rapt group of men in suits wagged their tails at the view. She wasn’t even very pretty.

Rolling your eyes, you scoped out the rest of the room, adorned in red velvet and gold nearly everywhere. What was this? A high school musical? Even those had more class than this place.

You checked your sliver wristwatch lined by dainty diamonds. You always did like gifts. Too bad rarely anyone would get anything in return.

The girls on the stage twirled around, giving the audience the best view that they could, tiger-prowling to those waving bills in their grabby hands. They were tanned and fashioned into strappy and lacy pieces that looked like they all must have shared them. Pathetic.

“You come here often?”

He swirled some clear looking liquid in his crystal glass, the little string of olives clinking the side.

“Are you speaking to me?”

“No, I’m talking to them.” He head nodded to the same group of greasy businessmen. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“It’s my first time...and likely my last.”

“Huh. Tough critic.”

He didn’t look like the rest of them. Younger, reeking less of starved attention. He had golden blonde hair, and a silk white shirt unbuttoned far into a deep V. He was toned: the muscles on his arms were visible under the thin fabric and his abs made a show thanks to the abandonment of buttons. He wore dress pants perfectly fitted for his thighs. He was...attractive...but not your type.

“What’s not to like? Beautiful people, drinks to make you forget your mistakes? Not your scene?”

You rested your chin in your palm. “It’s my scene, but not this scene.”

“Suit yourself.” He took another swing, pivoting his body towards you, legs spread wide. “I think I know someone who can change you mind though.”

“In this place? Unlikely.”

“Come on...just stay a little bit longer and they’ll come out. They’re the last act of the night for a reason.” He signaled to the maître d' and whispered something into his ear. “Drinks on me. If you’ll stay?”

“Free drinks?” You put down your empty glass. “I suppose I can’t say no to that.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

It was thirty minutes till closing, and you had stayed much longer than you had liked. After all the drinks you had to pass the time, you were starting to feel a little buzz, but nothing much really phased you these days. You started to wonder if he had been pulling some kind of prank. Nothing you had seen was what he had hyped it up to be.

The lights dimmed behind you, making the room dark enough for the tiny white candles at the tables to provide the only light. Spotlights flashed on from behind you too, illuminating the U shaped stage. With the lights, the music faded into something much more sultry.

The first two girls stepped out, both of them wearing white sets that were nearly identical with sheer robes. Two others stepped out after them, this time wearing red and black. It was the same thing you had been seeing all night.

The spotlight tightened.

It was him.

He was wearing a button down and those same pants, everything seemed so tight on him, accentuating every curve of his body. Strangely, when he walked out, he was greeted with wolf-whistles and hoots. He winked back at his spectators, nearly falling out of their chairs to see him better. It was even stranger considering the audience was filled with men.

He walked around the girls on stage as if he was inspecting them, his eyes eating up every bit of their skin. He confidence was unparalleled. He would run his hands down their sides, digging his fingers into their hips. They circled around him until his body was covered with their hands, teasing the audience, just barely touching around his dick, which with his pants...there was little room for imagination.

Silent moans left his lips once they started undressing him giving him their full attention. The cheers grew even louder. Before long, he was nearly fully undressed swaying to the music. He wore nothing special, just some briefs, like any normal person would. It was...confusing.

He took turns “giving attention” to every girl, looking at them like he worshiped the ground the walked on. They would grind their bodies together, or he would pick them up in his arms, and they would wrap their long legs around him. He would pantomime fucking them from behind, screwing up his face as if he really was. Everyone went crazy for that.

It didn’t last for very long and the lights soon went all the way down, leaving the stage scattered with sweating bodies, panting as if they had just cum, entangling themselves all in eachother.

You were a bit unenthused, but it was different. There was something about him that was different.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Were the drinks enough for you?” His voice called to you just as you were about to leave. This time, he returned wearing the same silk shirt.

“I hope that I didn’t make you pay for too many.” You pouted with faux empathy.

“And the show?” He grinned a little.

“Interesting. Considering a place like this.”

He laughed a little. “I help with...the imagination.”  

“So they pretend that you’re them. I’ll admit, it’s smart.”

“You’d be surprised, somedays I get more male customers compared to most of the girls here.” He bit his lip as if recalling a memory. “They pay well too, pay for whatever they aren’t getting at home. Who am I do deny them that when it’s my job?

“You sleep with them?”

“The ones I like.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“Can be. In a good way.” He let out a sharp laugh. “So. Did I prove you wrong?”

“Hmmm. I could do better.”

He popped his brows up. “You could?”

He was intriguing. You decided to give him a bite. “I dance at La Rose Rouge.”

“You dance at that overpriced, snotty ass place?” His words turned poisonous.  What’s it like dancing for a guy who’s got a stick so far up his ass--”

“--The price is right, and you get what you pay for there...especially if its me.”

“How am I not surprised?”

“I need to go, I’ve seen all I could here.” You bowed at him a little.

“Wait.” He grabbed at your arm. “I’ve still got one more thing to show you. Follow me.”

 ╚ ——————————————— ╝

Your insides were on fire as he fucked into you. Every time that he thrust into you, he was relentless and unforgiving. He was going so fast you could barely catch your breath. You were bent over some dusty old sofa in an equally dusty dressing room. You would kill him if he left bruises on your hips from how hard he was holding you.

“fuck. shit.” He panted, then reached one of his hands around to rub at your sensitive sex, slick with your excitement.

He was so fucking cocky, but he knew what the hell he was doing. He bent over your back, sucking into your skin, wrapping his arms around you to tweak your nipples. He was wrecking you from the inside out, devouring you like he had never tasted anything like you.

He kicked your legs open even farther. “Fucking moan for me, slut.”

You had barely let him hear more than a few gasps, he didn’t deserve it. You wanted him to moan for you.

“Who are you calling slut?” You said with venom.

You shoved off of him, and he looked devastated. He was cute. He even frowned regretfully like he had done something wrong.

The metal of your rings dug into his neck when you grabbed it, squeezing as hard as you could. Your hot breath snuck into his ear, “No, you fucking moan for me...slut.”

You attacked his lips, tracing the insides of his mouth with your tongue. He moaned right into you and grabbed handfuls of your ass with his two hands. Your teeth bit his lip and pulled. His dick trembled between the two of you and he rutted against your stomach to get some kind of relief.

He took one of his hands to your hair before resting his glossy brown eyes on you. “I’d do anything for you.” His voice quivered. “You ruin me.”

“Get on the floor.” You commanded him, and he did as he was told without a question, laying his bare body on the cold concrete.

The chill of the stone stung your knees, but that didn’t matter, you just wanted to see him unravel. You straddled down onto him, taking him in as you sunk down.

“oh shit,” slipped off your tongue without you having much control over it.

You rolled your core over him, back and forth, circling yourself and bouncing up and down as he rolled his eyes back, licking his lips while you did everything that you wanted. As you bounced he held on to your ass, digging his fingertips in. You had your eyes closed, so you didn’t see it when he rose is hand to slap you hard. It burned beautifully.

“—Jisung? Are you done yet? The rest of us are going out.” A female voice called, and rattled the locked door.

“FUCK OFF.” He groaned, and held onto your ass even tighter.

You let out a unamused tsk. “Jisung? That’s your real name?”

He didn’t say anything, but instead swiftly took you in his arms to lay you down. The chill of the floor startled you into wince, but it felt amazing compared to how hot you were. He entered you immediately again, then slung your legs over his shoulders. His blonde hair appeared to bounce a little with each thrust.

You knew exactly what you were doing when you dragged your nails down his arms, waterfalling pink, perfect, lines. His whole body seized at the sensation, sending him into a fury. He licked his hand from palm to fingers, not breaking your gaze as he used it to rub relentlessly at you.

You were on the edge.  

“Want my cum, you whore?”

You were close as well, and it clouded your senses--you felt yourself slipping into him after holding back for so long.

“ye-yes, I want it.”

He came in seconds, doubling over you when he did, panting like a dog, with you gasping just as hard from your own orgasm. He seemed to shake a little as he came down, nearly suffocating you with his body weight. You jiggled your hips just a little to get a rise out of him. You had guessed correctly, someone like him couldn’t take overstimulation.

“Fuck, wait, wait. I-I can’t take anymore.”

You laughed a little and stopped. “You’re no fun.”

“I thought I literally just proved to you that I’m loads of fun.”

“Mmm, I suppose.”

“You liked it?” He ran his hand through his sweaty roots.

“You made me cum, so...usually I have to fake it.”

“Really?”

You nodded.

“I’m honored.” He grinned a little pridefully.

You reached down to your hole to catch a few drops of his cum on your fingers, stretching it out a little and playing with it. He watched you as you did so, eyes wide. You stood to grab his jaw, sticking your fingers in his mouth which he eagerly sucked.

“Where have you been my whole life?” He looked up at you in wonder.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that...Jisung.”

He watched you then as you dressed, careful not to forget your gorgeous silver wristwatch.

“I won’t be coming back, so don’t expect that this will happen again.”

“Wait--” He stopped you before you grabbed the door handle. “You didn’t tell me your name--”

“--That’s something you don’t need to know.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Darling, is there anything that I can get you?”

Your manager swept a caring hand to hold you by the small of your back.

“No, thank you though, love.” You shone brightly back to him.

“Just let me know? So far we’ve got a queue for you. Four gentlemen and three ladies. I expect that the tips tonight will be generous...it’s payday.”

You politely nodded. “Of course.”

“Have you been having a hard time with any of the new faces?”

You took a sip of your brandy. “Some of them have some mouth, but I’ll make them dignified. You can trust me.”

“I always do.” He gently kissed your cheek. “Ah, I forgot to mention, one of your customers brought you a gift. It’s in your dressing room; he wants you to wear it for your dance tonight.”

“I do love gifts.”

“Go get ready darling, you haven’t got much more time.”

Once you were in your dressing room, a medium sized white box waited for you on your vanity. There was no labels; no indication that it was from a luxurious brand. You opened it, and the shirt was wrapped in light pink tissue paper. It was too short to be a robe, but it was silk and white with buttons that looked more decorative rather than useful. You figured it must have been your customer’s: many of them got off to you wearing their clothes. It wasn’t your usual style, but you knew how to make anything work.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“And for our last act of the night: the wonderful, the illustrious...”

You walked out to the silent stage: meant only for you, the stage lights yellow, shrouding you in their brilliance. Your chest was bare, save for the silky shirt falling off your shoulders. They were cheering for you, throwing paper bills at you and calling your name, but you couldn’t hear them at all. You had never felt so whole in your life since being on the stage. It seemed like the rest of your days were just spent chasing some kind of feeling that merely resembled that.

Barefoot, you pranced along the stage, twirling like a ballerina even, letting the shirt billow up just so they could see your perky bottom. With all of their eyes on you, you felt like an absolute vision--like an ethereal being, desired, but impossibly attainable.

The jazz song played on by the live players, a muted trumpet and violins accompanied you. Your eyes swept across the blue velvet curtains of the booths, to every man and woman looking at you in awe. You let the shirt slip just a bit farther, revealing your back, winking. You never had to show them much. It was your charisma that they thirsted for--and that they could only get a small taste of.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Darlin’ you’re a catch, an absolute catch.” Your manager snuck up behind you taking your makeup off to hand you the ridiculously fat stack of bills. “You keep us afloat baby, you know that I can’t thank you enough.” He bowed.

“Stop flattering me.” You remarked with a smirk. “I know.”

Your manager left, then the curtain to your room screeched again. He slowly stepped into the light, applauding slightly.

“He’s right you know? Even I can’t get enough of you.”

It was him, cocky smile, swept blonde hair and all.

“You again? I’m surprised that you even made it in here at all. Considering who you are.”

“What? The competition? You didn’t tell them about me, did you?”

You patted some serums into your face. “Better leave soon before they rid you of that handsome face of yours.”

“You saying that I’m handsome?” He snarked.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seeing you, I thought I made that clear? Isn’t that what you were doing when you came to my club?”

“Like what you saw?”

“I stand corrected.” He let up, advancing towards you at your vanity. “And you look just as stunning in my shirt as I thought you would.”

“Your...this is yours? How the hell did you mange that?”

“I have my ways.”

“I suppose you want it back then.”

“No...you can keep it...if you promise me one thing.”

“And what would that be?”

He reached out for your hands, which you tentatively took. He swept you up, pulling you into his chest with eyes dipped in lust.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” He spoke onto your lips with heated breath.

You would’ve been lying if you had said his lips didn’t look appetizing.

“One more time.”

“Bold of you to assume that I’d want to fuck you again.”

“You haven’t been thinking of it too? My hands on your body...”He caressed your body down, “My lips on yours?” He pulled you in by the chin to carefully part your lips with his. “My dick filling you up?” He pulled you in closer to feel his pulsating dick. “You don’t think about it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That you want me. All you have to do is say it and I’m yours.”

“You’re looking to get killed if they know you’ve touched me.”

“I’d happily die for you.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that...Jisung.”

His lips fell to your neck where he pressed slow kisses onto it. “Just say it...”

The cool of his saliva on your skin met the air, tingling. You couldn’t believe you found yourself considering...

“I know you want to...”

“This won’t be a common occurrence.” You got out, suppressing your moans.

“Is that a yes?”

“...yes.”

“And we’ll see about that.” He slyly grinned, meeting your lips once again.

He swept you up, and your legs naturally wrapped around him. He carried you out of the dressing room to the main hall, pulling you both into the nearest booth, drawing the blue velvet curtains behind him. His eyes devoured you, casting aside his silk shirt that loosely clung to you. You threw your weight onto the table, opening your legs for him, inviting him. He chuckled a little at the action.

“I can imagine you must’ve been thinking of this as well then.” He kissed down your stomach, removing what underwear you were barely wearing. He kissed and sucked at the skin in your inner thighs, kindling your excitement. Spit gathered on his tongue, which he let drip down to your sex which glistened for him.

Your core begged for that feeling once again, that feeling only he could give you: the one that made you feel alive, like you weren’t just chasing some impossibility.

He lapped at you slowly with his tongue, awakening your whole body.

“I fucking want you.”

[unbridgeabledistances]

i love ur new fic! only a couple of requests - more parts to it! and...more softness between the two of them 🥺 we hardly get given any in the show </3

:)) ty so so much, anon!!! as requested, here’s another installment of the alternate POV fic (this time from tami’s perspective) and a whooole lot of domestic gallavich softness (featuring very sappy kitchen slow dancing)

--

Tami knew that the pandemic had taken a toll on its fair share of relationships— hell, hers and Lip’s included. But as much as she and Lip bickered and miscommunicated and regularly put up solid walls of lies between each other, at least, the very least—

At least they weren’t like Ian and Mickey.

At some point between being head-over-heels, fuck-all-night crazy for each other and getting married, something between Lip’s brother and his stellar choice of a Southside boyfriend had definitely changed. Tami wasn’t really close to either of them, other than Ian’s borderline obsession with Fred and her gratefulness for the cooing baby voice that came over him every time Tami thrust her tired arms out for him to take the screaming toddler in her arms, and she barely crossed paths with Mickey in a situation that wasn’t coordinating frozen waffles for breakfast or sitting across from him in the living room during Gallagher family movie nights that always inevitably turned into a passionate thirty minute screaming match about which movie to pick— but ever since the first time she set foot into the slumped and sagging Gallagher house, Tami knew that Ian and his choice of a prison-break boyfriend were something special, at least at the beginning.

She’d seen it the first time she met the two of them, when these two grown men were willingly crashing in that shitty single bed in the boys’ room while she and Lip were slumming it in the ever-so-spacious privacy of the cramped room with the accordion door, back when the halls were crawling with strangers making tamales and Fred was barely weeks old and Tami was inches away from losing her shit; Tami couldn’t imagine being in a smaller and more confined space than the one that she was in, locking herself in the bathroom behind an actual fucking door every chance for some peace and quiet, distancing herself from Lip every chance she got— and then there was Ian and Mickey down the hall, sleeping pressed together on a concave mattress meant for a single teenager, pouring each other coffee and trading glances as they sat next to each other at the breakfast table, and pulling each other closer every second they had the chance despite the fact that they’d just gotten out of a months-long prison stay together. There was something so earnest, and so weirdly romantic, about seeing a hardass like Mickey Milkovich, someone with “Fuck U Up” tattoos on his knuckles and more of a sailor’s vocabulary than Tami had, turn to putty whenever he was in proximity to Lip’s little brother. Tami had to be honest—she was kind of impressed. These guys clearly had the teenager, puppy-dog kind of love for each other that hadn’t really gone away, something that she didn’t think that she and Lip ever really had, or ever really would— so as much as she felt like her life and her relationship with Lip was spiraling towards a series of cascading failures, it was nice to know that at least someone in the Gallagher house had a sturdy, stable relationship.

And then, of course, the pandemic hit.

When all this COVID shit started, Tami had counted her infinite blessings that she and Lip had gotten a place of their own outside the Gallagher house before all the sprawling weeks of lockdowns; Tami couldn’t imagine the kind of unforgiving hell on earth it would be to quarantine in that tiny slumped house, in a tiny cramped room, for months on end until the U.S. tangentially got its shit together. So it made sense, really, that everything between Ian and Mickey had changed.

She’d noticed it that first morning, when she and Lip finally dropped by the house after weeks of hunkering down to have breakfast with everyone, carrying a box of cheap pastries they’d gotten on the walk over— and the first thing she’d noticed when she walked into the kitchen was how far apart Mickey and Ian were sitting, on opposite ends of the rickety kitchen table, any scarce dialogue between the two of them turned brittle and stale.

There were spats, now, and gentle shoves that turned less gentle; she and Lip weren’t around the house much anymore, thank fucking god, but what few conversations she did see between Ian and Mickey always ended with raised voices and them both practically having steam coming out of their ears, or with some stray bystander needing to plant themselves in the middle of the married couple to tell them to calm the fuck down. Tami would lock eyes with Lip as they scuffled in the kitchen, her eyebrows raised in a message that she knew Lip understood: “See, this is why I never want to get married.”

So that was pretty much the situation Tami expected to be walking into, late one afternoon when Lip was presumably off doing some shady shit with those stolen bikes and Tami was stuck at the Gallagher house waiting to meet up with him so they could keep working through “Operation Sell the Gallagher House to Gentrifiers.” Tami had expected Lip to be here a couple of hours ago, and was honestly debating just saying fuck it and going home— but Fred had passed out in Tami’s lap as they were sitting on the couch a couple of minutes ago and Tami was not going to wake this monster child up before he was ready and took another hour of crying and writhing to settle down again. Tami was leaning back, closing her eyes and enjoying a rare moment of peace in this godforsaken house… when she was snapped back into reality by the sound of a kitchen cupboard slamming shut.

Huh. Tami had apparently drifted off, but Freddie was still sound asleep in her lap, pinning her down. It was definitely the early evening by now— the sun had started to set, glowing purple from behind the thin curtains.

A clang came from the kitchen again, and Tami craned her neck as much as she could without stirring the sleeping toddler in her lap to peer into the kitchen from the open doorway to see if Lip was home— and instead, she saw Ian standing by the counter opening something with a can opener, and Mickey beside him.

It looked like they’d been in the kitchen a while—from the corner of her eye she could see Mickey perched on the countertop sipping a beer, his legs swinging while Ian milled around him pulling things from the cabinets and manning the stovetop. She knew both of the boys weren’t much of a cook, and from what she’d seen Ian’s culinary abilities didn’t exceed heating up canned soup or spreading butter on toast— but it looked like he was chopping onions and opening a can of black beans for something, which struck her by surprise. There was music playing low from a little portable speaker in the kitchen, presumably something Ian had brought down from the bedroom— right now there was some 80s hit playing that reminded Tami of the music her dad used to listen to while he was putzing around in the garage when she was little, if she was bring totally honest. But Mickey seemed to be enjoying it, his head bobbing slightly to the beat while he scrolled through what she recognized as Ian’s phone.

“Okay, the recipe website says you’ve gotta add cumin now. What the fuck is cumin?”

She could hear Ian’s dry laugh. “A spice? I think? We probably don’t even have it, I’ll just add a shit ton of chili powder and it’ll taste fine.”

“Whatever you say, Rachel Ray.”

Tami could see Ian lean to flip Mickey off, then turn to poke through the cabinets. Weird. Ian had flipped Mickey off, sure, but there wasn’t any malice in it; for the first time in a while, it seemed like the two of them were actually coexisting peacefully for once— which, thank god for that, at the very least because it meant Fred would stay sleeping on her lap for a while until Lip got home.

Now that she thought back on it, Ian and Mickey had seemed a bit more settled lately— she’d heard bits and pieces about all the stuff with Mickey’s abusive asshole of a dad moving in next door, and about the two of them starting a security business together in that random ambulance that was always parked in the street now (Tami wasn’t even going to ask)— she could imagine that running errands around Chicago together all day long in matching jumpsuits would bring anyone closer together. This was the first time she’d really seen them enjoy being in each other’s space since the pandemic started, just casually hanging out around the house without something fiery about to erupt between them, whether from anger or passion— and honestly, it was kind of nice to by in proximity to, just listening to their chatter floating back and forth and the sizzling of onions and chili flakes in a pan while the music drifted between them.

Tami sat there for a while, closing her eyes again as the shadows in the room grew deeper, listening to some Bon Jovi song play low in the background and feeling the solid weight of Fred breathing evenly pressed against her chest.

A couple minutes of minutes later, she heard the stove being turned off, and the clanking of plates being taken out of the cabinets as the song ended.

“Hey, can I pick a song?” Ian asked, over the sound of him putting the sizzling pan into the sink.

Mickey burped loudly, and Tami could see that he was still perched on the edge of the kitchen counter by the stovetop.

“Yeah, but put on something good, man. None of your techno bullshit.”

“Pass me my phone.”

Ian fidgeted with the phone for a moment—and then a familiar song, a lot softer than the cheerful drumbeats of the melodies before, came streaming through the speaker.

“I found a love, for me…”

Immediately, she heard Mickey chuckle loudly, like he was surprised.

“Fuuuucking softie,” Mickey groaned, but when Tami craned her neck again to slyly peer at the two of them in the kitchen she could see that he was grinning. At first Tami was confused, but then a memory started to stir— this was their wedding song, wasn’t it? She remembered hearing it waft through the front hallways of the dingy polka house while she and Lip were having their screaming match over Fred. Ah, good memories.

Ian stepped closer to Mickey, and Tami promptly heard the pad of Mickey’s feet hitting the ground as he slid off of the kitchen countertop.

“Dance with me?”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” Mickey breathed, and then they were silent. From where she was sitting, Tami could see Ian’s broad shoulders standing in front of where Mickey had been seated— his head was curled downward slightly, and Mickey was pinned close against him, his face pressed into the upper half of Ian’s shoulder.

Well, damn. Tami smirked to herself. I guess that security business has worked some magic after all.

Out of nowhere, Fred started to stir and wriggle in Tami’s lap.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t really want to break up the sappy moment, but Freddie was definitely due for a diaper change and was going to be a fussy mess in about five seconds if she didn’t scoop him up right now.

She quickly rose from the lumpy couch, cradling the back of Fred’s head in her hands and beelining through kitchen doorway.

Instantly, Mickey nearly jumped out his skin when he saw Tami— he immediately detached himself from Ian’s shoulder and detangled himself from Ian’s arms. Ian just grinned sheepishly and leaned against the counter, letting Mickey ever-so-slightly slump against him.

Tami paused, taking the scene in and trying to hold back a knowing smile as Freddie fussed on her shoulder.

“The fuck’re you looking at?”

Mickey’s neck turned blotchy and flushed, and he darted his eyes to Freddie and then back to Tami.

Tami knew she had a sloped, sappy smile on her face. “Nothing. Just good to see you guys not ripping each other’s throats out for once.”

Mickey let out a slight breath, slumping back towards Ian’s chest even more— then he rolled his eyes, but the gesture was light and fond.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively. Ian was still practically beaming, and draped a hand across Mickey’s waist— and Tami watched as he slowly, slowly pressed a kiss to Mickey’s temple and Mickey’s posture immediately softened, like the air was being let out of him.

Wow. Okay. Guess the old Ian and Mickey are back.

Tami raised Freddie slightly onto her shoulder, then pushed past the two of them towards the back stairs, where Tami could hopefully go up and change her son’s shitty diaper in peace— and as she started to climb the stairs, she heard one final quip from Mickey:

“Your brother can’t sell this house fast enough, man.”

[bobbys-naughty-corner]

Shindou Yo x reader

Warning: abuse, violence, cursing, hard sex, definitely not for minors.

18+ PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING UNHOLY DONT READ IF U NOT OVER 18

Ugly

I opened my front door and was startled when big arms wrapped around my neck. Sobbing in my ear and a chant of sorry’s came out the person’s mouth. They let me go and cupped my cheeks. “YN I’m so sorry. What I did was stupid and unforgivable but please, please, please forgive me. I regret my actions everyday. I regret what I said!” Shindou stared at me, tears streaming down his face. I stayed quiet, stunned that he was at my doorstep even apologizing.

1 week ago

“You fucking bitch! Did you think I wouldn’t find out?!” I was so confused as to what he was talking about. I dodged objects he threw at me. “What did I do?!” I cried, running from him. “Still acting dumb! You’re a sad excuse for a girlfriend! What’s his name?!” He yelled at me. “W-whose name?” I whimpered as he cornered me. “That loser you’ve been fucking with!” He shouted in my face. I covered my face and cowered in the corner of the kitchen. Flinching every time he made any movements. “Who?” I asked again. He kicked my thigh and stepped on my tail. “Stop! Please! I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t know any guy.” I cried trying to get my tail from under his boot. “Please Shindou.” I begged him. He added more pressure on my tail and I cried out louder. He was going to break it. He stormed off and left me sobbing on the floor. I tried to lift my tail but it hurt to move it on it’s own. I carefully picked it up and whined at the throbbing pain. He came back with my phone and shoved the phone in my face. I flinched but took the phone with shaky hands. I read the messages and my heart broke. It was my father’s number. I never saved it because he said that the phone he was using was temporary. “Who is that?” He asked, crouching down to my level. “Don’t lie to me.” He warned me. “I-it’s my f-father.” I whimpered. He smacked me across the face. “Try again.” He said. I used all of my strength and pushed him on his ass while I tried to get away. He quickly grabbed the end of my tail. I felt and heard a my tail bone break. I fell and cried out painfully, screaming bloody murder. The tip of my tail dangling loosely and broken. Shindou’s eyes widened when he heard the crack. He climbed over me and covered my mouth. “Shh shh I’m sorry baby. I can fix it.” He said. He pulled my head into his chest and he rocked me back and forth telling me to be quiet.

Present day

“YN say something! Please!” He begged me. “I was wrong, entirely. I want to make it right, please take me back.” He dropped down to his knees and held my hands and he looked up at me. Behind him were discarded roses and a big stuffed bear. “I can’t be without you baby. You flood my every thought, you make my heart pound in my chest. I lost my mind when you left, I’m a mess without you. YN I love you so much. I’d do anything for you. I want to start over.” He pleaded. His hands gripped mine tightly. “You,” it was hard to even speak to him. “You hurt me.” I said quietly. “I know, I know baby. I’m sorry about that.” He stood up and raised my head with his hand. “I’m scared of you.” I confessed. “I know I can be scary at times but I’ll get that under control. I promise. I’ll do better, I’ll be better.” He smiled but his smile dropped when I shook my head no. “YN please don’t say no. You can’t say no. I need you in my life.” His hand held my hand in a crushing grip. I whined and he moved closer. “I love you, you can’t tell me you don’t still love me. You don’t miss me? You don’t need me?” I did still love him, I did miss him, I did need him but I didn’t want to be hurt again. My tail is still recovering, whose to say he won’t break any other bone in my body. “My-“ he cut me off with a kiss. His tongue invading my mouth and his body pressed against mine. He pressed a hand to the back of my head so I wouldn’t move away. His other hand still gripping mine and I used my free hand to try to push him away. It was hard to resist him. I missed him so much. I wondered if he was okay even when I was the one in the hospital. When he pulled away we both panted heavily. “Just say you want me and I’ll be yours again. I’ll be right beside you any second of the day. I’ll protect you, I’ll never hurt you again.” He let go of my hand and rubbed his thumb on my cheek bone. I couldn’t say no, not to him. “You promise?” I asked him. My eyes blurring from my incoming tears. “I promise.” He reassured me. My hand wrapped around his neck as I sobbed into his body. My fingers tugging his shirt slightly. “I brought you some stuff. But I’ll put it in the car. I’ll help you pack.” He kissed my cheek and picked up the roses and bear off the ground. I trailed behind him, I really wanted the big stuffed brown bear. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back to the house. I stayed with my father since he came here to visit before he’d go back to America.

Shindou packed all of my stuff in the trunk while I climbed in the back seat cuddling the bear. The drive was long, my father didn’t live in the city, he wanted something quiet and far. When we got to the apartment it was different. I carried the bear inside and went to the bedroom we shared. He brought my bags in and let me sit on the bed while he unpacked for me. I did feel a little uneasy being in here. The whole apartment made me uneasy as memories of abuse flooded my mind. I watched him organize my clothes and my products. When he was done he came up to me and squatted in front of me. His hands ran up my thigh and loosened my pants. He tugged them and I stood up so he could take them off. “You’re not wearing underwear.” He stated. “I only do when I’m on my period. You told me to.” I replied back. He kissed my thigh and smiled. “I did.” He stood up and lifted my shirt over my head. I shivered from being naked in the cold room. He lifted my head and kissed my nose. “I missed you so much.” He whispered. He wrapped something around my neck and I gasped. He kissed my jaw and I looked down to see a necklace dangling down my chest. It had his name on it. It was gold and I surprisingly liked it. He pushed me onto the bed and took his shirt off. He crawled towards me and pulled me under him. My tail limply moved around his ankle. “You’re mine right YN?” He asked me. I nodded my head in agreement. “You won’t leave me again right?” I shook my head no and he smiled softly. His lips touched mine and his hands gropped my breast. Before he would be rough, aggressive and harsh with his hands. Now he was soft and gentle, touching me firmly. I moaned into the kiss and he pulled away. Trailing his lips down to my breast. Suckin my nipples and squeezing them as if something would come out. I whinced when he bit my left nipple too hard. He kissed it and moved to my other mound. His right hand slid down my naval and cupped my vagina. Using the pad of his finger to rub my clit. “Mmm.” I moaned softly. I stared at the ceiling as he touched my body. I didn’t know what to do. He’d usually have me tied up as he pounded me. This time I could move, I could touch him back. He wasn’t rough and he didn’t hurt me. Shindou sat up and pulled his pants down with his underwear. Exposing his dick. He flipped me over and pulled my ass to his face as he laid back. His cock soft and in my face. I moaned when his tongue licked my clit. His fingers teased my hole and his mouth played with my clit. When I looked down his dick was getting erect. Slowly twitching and becoming hard. I grabbed it gently and pumped it a few times before licking the tip. My tongue swirled over the tip and slowly sucked more of him in. Moaning at the taste of his skin, the warmth of his cock and the thickness that would soon make my jaw ache. I jumped when he slapped my ass, “Mmph!” I gagged and sucked more. My head bobbing up and down as he fingered me. His thumb vibrating on my clit and his finger rubbing my g spot. I was going to cum soon. I moaned over his dick and he let out deep grunts and groans of pleasure. My cheeks hollowed and my jaw almost tightened around his cock when he bucked up into my mouth. “I missed you so much baby. Ah, keep sucking Daddy’s dick. Yeah just like that. Nngh.” He said under me. His hips repeatedly thrusting up into my mouth making me gag. His tip hitting the back of my throat. “Oh fuck! You want my cum so bad don’t you? Nnngh! You first.” His fingers began to vibrate as he thrust them in my pussy. “Mmmmnnn!” I tried to focus on sucking but the pleasure was too much. Before I could even lift my head his leg pressed my head down further making me take all of him. My nose in his balls and my chin touching his pelvis. I couldn’t breathe and he fucked his fingers in me faster, his thumb circling my clit. I gagged, choked and moaned over him. My eyes rolling back as I felt my orgasm approaching. “You gonna cum? Go on.” He commanded. My hips stuttered and my eyes rolled back. I fucked back on his fingers.

Shindou pushed me off, his dick leaving my mouth with a pop sound. “Stay still.” He flipped me onto my back and slapped his dick on my clit a couple of times. “S-shin.” I whimpered his name. “Condom.” I said meekly. He shook is head no. No?! His dick pressed against my entrance. “Not this time. I’m gonna fuck lot of babies into this womb.” He said before he shoved his cock inside me. “Nnngh!” I groaned at the stretch. My teeth clenched and my eyes shut. I didn’t want kids. I hope he was joking, lying, please pull out. His hips slammed down into mine and I held his biceps tightly. “Oh fuck! I’m already so close! So tight for Daddy!” He yelled. His thrust picked up the pace. My eyes shot open and my back arched. “Please! Shin! Hmmm!” He was being rough again. It hurt. I clawed his arm and he groaned. His hands pinned mine above my head. “Please what? You don’t even know what your asking for. All dumb from my cock. No one is going to fuck you the way I do. No one is gonna love you the way I do. You need me. Say it.” He hand forced my face to look at him. My gut hurt each time his cock hit my cervix. “I-I need y-you.” I whimpered trying not to moan. It was painful and pleasurable. “Yes baby. You need me. Need me to fuck you good. I need you too. I need you to be good for me and take my cock.” I wiggled under him, trying to get away. The bed hit the wall repeatedly. I babbled under him, nonsense spewing out of my mouth. “FUCK! This is my pussy! You are mine! Don’t you ever leave me again!” He yelled at me. I cried, hot tears running down my cheek as he pounded me. He stopped and pushed in more. A echoed pop sounded around the room. He groaned and I screamed. “Aww, did that hurt?” He teased. His lips covered mine and he ate up my screams and cries. He hurt me again. His cock passed my cervix and entered my womb. He pulled his head away and shuddered. He breathed through his teeth and squeezed my wrist together. “You got really tight baby. Relax.” He said as he tried not to move. “It hurts! It hurts! Please take it out!” I cried. He ignored me. “Shindou Please! Please!” He moved his hips back and thrust into me. My back arched and my feet kicked against the bed sheets. He let go of my wrist and wrapped his arms around my waist. His dick started to vibrate inside of me. “Cum baby. Cum for Daddy.” He moved slightly. My arousal gushing out as he gave me small thrusts. His hair tickling my nose and his lips leaving hickeys on my neck. My eyes crossed and my teeth clenched, it felt good. Amazing even. The pain brought pleasure I never felt before. My walls fluttered around him. My orgasm hit and my moans were loud. I sucked in heavy breaths as I cried and yelled. His dick kept vibrating, overstimulating me. My legs shook behind him, my arms wrapped around his back, my nails dragged down his back. Leaving red lines and some traces of blood.

He pushed his dick in further and began his previous rough pace again. I clung onto him, the pain coursing through my body but giving me aftershocks of pleasure. “Oh fuck!” I yelled. I felt another orgasm building up. “Come on baby. Make Daddy proud. Cum again.” He picked me up and bounced my body on his dick. “You like that? My beautiful girl. I’m close!” He buried his head in my breast and whimpered as he fucked me. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” I chanted. Shindou grunted and moaned his dick twitching inside me. My body convulsed in his arms as I released my orgasm. A silent cry leaving my mouth. He pulled me off his dick and I squirted on his lap. He bit my neck as he came on our stomachs. He let go of me and flipped me over. He slowly put his dick back in me and held my hands beside my head. “Lift your ass.” He commanded. I lifted my hips up slightly and he bucked his hips into me. “Ah! Ah! Mmnn!” I moaned. “This time I’m going to fill you up. You want that right?” I shook my head no. “No? Yes you do, because I do. I want to see you waddling around with my baby in your belly. Nice an plump with my seed. You’d be a great mother.” He said. I whimpered and cried at the thought of being pregnant. It was too scary to even think about. “No, please.” I said barely above a whisper. My voice failing me after all that screaming and crying. My body was weak and nearly numb. He released one of my hands and spread my ass apart. I heard him spit and I felt his saliva run down my ass hole. I flinched and he put his thumb in my ass. It burned, even if it was just the tip of his finger. “My god, your ass got tighter than your pussy. I can’t wait to fuck you here.” He pulled his thumb out and slapped my ass. I cried into the bed. The echoes of the bed frame hitting the wall emanated around the room. He released my other hand and held my hips. Using the leverage to thrust faster. Moving my hips with his, timing it perfectly to meet my ass with his hips. I drooled into the mattress, my mind completely dumb. I panted like a dog. My tail wrapped around his right arm and he tugged it at the base. “Yes baby. Yes! Oh fuck yeah! Take my cum!” His hips stuttered and I felt his load fill my womb. His hot semen flooding my insides. I came too. Our cum mixing together and spilling down our bodies. He continued to thrust in, pushing his gum further in me. Grinding his hips against my ass to keep it in. He collapsed over me and kissed my neck. Not pulling out at all.

I woke up the next morning sticky and sore. Shindou sleeping on his back with his arm under my torso. I could barely move. When I tried getting up he turned over and pulled me into his chest. “Sleep.” He said as he drifted back off.

[lifesabe-ch]

game on - john b. (part 2)

request: can u write about being one of kies friends and u come to visit her for a little and u and john b end up rlly liking each other and u hook up at a keg party or something like that ??? thank uuu

summary: you and your parents decide to come to the outer banks for your summer break, visiting your old friend kiara, but things quickly take a turn when you take a liking to one of her friends

pairings: john b. x reader

warnings: smut (oral, male and female receiving), public sex (ish)

a/n: I can’t believe I wrote this. I can’t believe I wrote this. I can’t believe I wrote this. I can’t believe I wrote this. someone buy me holy water thanks

PART 1

You’ve come to learn that time passes relatively quickly out here on the Outer Banks. It had been a few days since the party and you had successfully managed to avoid both John B. and Rafe since.

Instead, you had spent the time catching up with Kiara. She told you about high school, about her drama, and about how she fell in with the Pogues. You returned the favor, telling all about your friends back home, the things you guys did, and even who you guys did.

“That’s insane,” She laughed, shoving you lightly.

You raised your hands in mock surrender, a laugh bubbling out of you as well, “It’s true! He introduced her to his family!”

Walking along the pier, you took in the island before you. The Outer Banks truly were beautiful. And the boats! Ugh, they were so cute.

Pointing excitedly towards a docked ship, Kie followed your gaze, “Look at that! That’s freakin’ insane and, awh, look at this one!”

Running over to where the small boat was docked, you grinned, “It’s so small, the tiny boat could! It’s the emergency boat for the big boat, right? Like the mommy and the baby?”

She laughed, shaking her head, “That boat? That’s--”

“My boat.”

Turning, you came face to face with John B.

Great.

“Oh…” You glanced over at Kie, watching as she stared on in amusement. “It’s adorable.”

“Adorable?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “But, I don’t know how much that means coming from me. This is the closest I’ve ever even been to being on a boat.”

“Why doesn’t John B. show you around the marsh on his?”

You snapped your head in the girls direction, immediately shaking your head, “No way. Not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Because! I… have plans. With you! The only way I’m getting on that boat is if you’re on it too.”

“I have to work,” She said, rolling her eyes, “Besides, it’ll be fun. John B. is a great tour guide.”

“It’s true,” He nodded, giving you an all too familiar smile, “I am.”

Groaning, you glanced between the two of them. You really didn’t want to do this.

Leaning over, you muttered to Kie, careful John B. couldn’t hear you, “But it’ll be awkward, I don’t know him.”

“So get to know him,” She practically screamed, obviously not picking up on the subtleness you wanted to keep. “I want you to be friends with my friends.”

Sighing loudly, you cross your arms over your chest as you look out over the water. You knew there was no way in hell you were going to get out of this. You just had to try your very best to ignore him on the boat.

“Fine.”

After a few minutes, the two of you were pulling away from the pier, leaving a waving Kiara in your wake.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” you mumble to yourself, sitting on the edge of the boat.

Glancing back at you as he steered, the boy snorted at your miserable state, “We both know I’m not that bad. Just relax!”

“Eyes on the road,” you snap, watching as he looks back over to the water, ignoring your obvious use of the wrong word.

Leaning back, you do let yourself relax a bit, thankful for having only worn a bikini and some shorts. If you were going to be stuck here, might as well soak in some sun.

“So… how’ve you been?”

Glancing over at him, you realize he is still facing forward like you’d told him to. Nice.

“Do you really care?”

Scoffing, he shakes his head slightly, actually turning his head to look back at you, “Of course I care.”

You shrug, watching the pier become further and further away until, eventually, you can barely even see it.

“I’ve been okay. I am on vacation, doesn't really get much better than that.”

Before he can respond, you hear the motor’s rumble become a soft lull, before going completely silent.

Glancing over at him, you panic, standing from your seated position, “What was that?”

“Fuck,” was the only response that came from the boy, leaving you to watch as he made his way over to the back of the boat.

“Well? What is it?”

Sheepishly shaking his head, he avoided your gaze, “We, uh, sort of ran out of gas.”

He was kidding. He had to be. Glancing around you realized that the two of you were in the middle of nowhere. Nothing was in sight, not even another boat. If you couldn’t get service by your house, how were you going to out here?

Your breath catches in your throat as you come to a realization. You were here, all alone, with John B. You wanted out. You needed out.

“Don’t you have any extra?”

“Gas? No, usually I fill her up before but I saw you and Kie and I guess I just forgot.”

“You forgot,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear but soft enough that it wasn't too rude. “How convenient of you.”

Making his way over to you, he places his hand on your arm, “Hey, it’s not that bad. This is the Outer Banks. Someone is bound to come out here eventually. Then they’ll help us out.”

Sighing, you roll your eyes, making your way over to the control panel where the gas meter was. You believed him, but part of you needed to see the little arrow steady on the E. And there it sat. On E. God was testing you, and you had not studied.

Trailing behind you, his hands find their way to your waist as he looks over your shoulder, “What? Don’t believe me?”

You don’t bother glancing back as you scoff, “Shut up. I’m trying to think of a way out of this.”

“There’s not,” He responds, face finding his way to your neck. “Might as well make the best of it.”

His mouth sucks gently against your skin, hands slowly roaming down your bikini clad body, stopping just above the band of your shorts.

As your head fell back against his chest, letting his hands push the shorts you were wearing down your legs, you murmured a soft, “But Kie…”

“Doesn’t have to know,” he finished, running a finger along your folds through the damp fabric.

You gasp, biting against your own lip to stop yourself from being too loud. You knew there was no one around to hear the two of you, but you were too trapped inside your own head to make the connection. You were trying to convince yourself that pushing him away was the right thing to do, but you seriously wanted nothing more to have him, right here, right now.

J.B noticed almost instantly, running his tongue along the shell of your ear, enjoying the way you shivered under his touch.

His voice came out barely above a whisper, “I want to hear you.”

Without any further warning, he maneuvered the fabric out of the way, dipping into your heat.

Moaning loudly, he rewarded you by slowly adding a second finger, enjoying the way your nails dug into his biceps to keep yourself steady as he slowly picked up the pace. He’d have marks all over his arms tomorrow, but right now he didn’t care.

With your back to him, you couldn’t see his face, but he could see you perfectly. The way your lips parted with each moan. The way your breath hitched each time he hit your sweet spot.

Peppering soft kisses to your jaw once more, his fingers maintained their unforgiving speed, his free arm wrapping around your waist to keep you steady as you rolled your hips against him in hopes of more friction.

As your muscles began to clench, his thumb began rubbing against your slit, his only focus on pushing you over the edge.

This time, he had no plans to pull away. His fingers continued their assault throughout your high, enjoying the way his name came from you mixing with various other obscenities on their way out.

Once it was over, he withdrew his hand, turning you in his arms and bringing his fingers up to your lips.

Almost instantly, you allowed him to place them in your mouth, sucking the taste of yourself off of him.

Letting out a small moan at the sight, John B. used the hand he had around your waist to pull you closer, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and pulling your lips to his in a searing kiss.

The kiss said more than words ever could, easing you down from the high you’ve just come off of. It’s gentle and warm, and as the two of you pull away, you can’t help but just stare up into his eyes.

“I think I owe you another one. From last time.”

You didn’t have time to think over his words before he was down in front of you,  your bottoms pulled down completely and your legs spread apart by his hands.

His touch is careful but calculated, experimental licks soon being replaced by a flat tongue and a soft rhythm. The more he sucks, the more you feel your legs twitch, one hand gripping the wheel behind you for support, the other tangling itself in his hair.

He works quickly, tongue darting in between your folds. As he lapped up your previous release, his fingers crept closer, teasingly running circles against your bud. Swapping the two positions, his fingers skillfully found their way inside you, his mouth now sucking on your clit.

Tugging at his brown strands, he lifts one of your legs onto his shoulder, allowing his fingers to enter you at a better angle.

You were a mess, a mixture of screams and moans as you came for the second time, hips rocking against his face helplessly.

He kept his mouth on you even after you finished, sucking and kissing the sensitive skin until you lightly pushed him away.  

Pulling your bottoms back up, you brought him to you in a kiss, this one much more frenzied than the last.

“Worth the wait?”

With a slight scoff, you shake your head, pushing him back from you gently, “Long ass wait.”

Before he even realized what you were doing, you dropped to your knees, pushing him against the console he just had you pressed against. Twice.

Your fingers fumble with his shorts much less confident in your movements than he was, but in a few seconds you get them undone and slide your hand beneath the waistband. Stroking him slowly, you tease his tip with your thumb, wrapping your hand around the length of his cock.

“Already hard for me, John B.?”

Pushing his pants down the rest of the way, your hand squeezes him lightly before slowly pumping. Dipping your head quickly, you wrap your mouth around his tip, tongue swirling.

With one buck of his hips, his dick hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. If he noticed, he didn’t care, eyes closing and head falling back as he felt your mouth against him.

You could tell he was enjoying the way your tongue moved on the base of his cock, pressing against him with just enough pressure to have him gripping your hair.

A string of curses left his lips as you felt his body tense up. He was close.

Removing your lips from his throbbing length with a small ‘pop’, you smiled innocently up at him.

As his eyes met yours, his face scrunched up in pleasure, he groaned.

“Y/N, please.”

Glancing between him and his exposed member, you shrugged, “Feels shitty, doesn’t it?”

The hold that he had on your hair suddenly became tighter, pulling you closer to him once again. Flattening your tongue, you dragged it up his entire length, blinking up at him before you closed your lips around the head of his erection once again.

The low groan that he let out was accompanied by a buck of his hips, this time much more gentle than the last. Moving your tongue in slow, languid patterns, you lather him in your saliva.

With each passing second, you could feel his movements become more faltering, his grip on your hair loosening as he neared his end. Bringing one hand up to grasp his thigh and the other to grip whatever you weren’t able to fit in your mouth, you hear him groan out your name, a moan slipping past your lips at the mere sound.

The vibration is the final push he needs, his member pulsing against your tongue, a warmth spraying the back of your throat. Moving his hand so you can pull away, you surprise him by continuing your motions, hollowing your cheeks and sucking insistently.

After he had finished, you pulled away slowly, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Worth the wait?” You mock, standing up as he pulls his shorts back on quickly.

Laughing, he rolls his eyes, bringing you close to him with an arm around your shoulders, his lips quickly pressing against your forehead.

“You kidding me? I thought I’d die waiting.”

tag list (respond to post or send ask to be added!):

@katherine097​ , @pitaparka​ , @sexualparkour​

[theouterbankpogues]

after sarah doesn’t invite kiara to her birthday party (a jj x kiara fic)

author : theouterbankpogues aka vi

fandom : jj x kie, jiara | outer banks on netflix

tags : the angst, the fluff, the hurt, the comfort y’know!!

warnings : none

i love writing for this ship bc it has a chokehold on me and i just... i’m so helpless lmao. i read this hc set by @lemon-patches​ (which you should definitely go and read bc it’s amazing and all the feelings) and it talked about how jj and ki were each other’s first kiss and no one else knows. this is basically how i imagine it happened. enjoy!! as always the validation feeds me so yeah if you like it pls share it and stuff (i love reading tags on reblogs so lmao do with that what u will). i imagine they are 15/16, about 6-8 months before s1 idk if that adds up but lol thats what i went with. sorry for any errors u may find xx

a little preview so u know what you’re getting into hehe: “They stood like that for a while, long and quiet breaths synced, arms entangled in waist and shoulders, hearts rhythmically beating, just enjoying the warmth of the best friend they dearly missed.”

Tears streamed down Kiara’s face. She knew that calling the cops was petty, she knew it was the worst of her manifesting itself, but tonight Ki couldn’t bring herself to care. She found herself toppling some books off of her bookshelf. She had always known that she wasn’t good enough for Sarah. The Sarah Cameron. God, she felt so stupid.

Another wave of regret coursed through her. The pit of her stomach hollowed when she re-remembered that she’d actually listened to her parents and decided to give her kook year a genuine try. She had distanced herself from the cut and the pogues, her best friends, the people that she could always count on, the people who always cared. She gave it all up for the superficial bullshit she knew would eventually fall apart.

That entire evening, the anger and regret approached her in harsh and unforgiving turns. She couldn’t escape her own thoughts, she was so mad at herself. She had let herself become vulnerable, given herself up for someone to use and dispose. She felt so weak. All she really wanted to do was fit in, to have a normal year where she wasn’t disappointing her parents, where she wasn’t out at unreasonable hours getting her friends out of messes, watching their string of luck grow thinner and thinner with every prank and practical joke. She was tired of being the middle between the kooks and pogues, she loved the latter and she could’t escape the part of her that was the former. She just wanted to resign to one side, she just wanted things to get easier. Kiara had decided to leave everything for some peace of mind, and now she knew she’d made a mistake. She hadn’t even checked in with John B, his dad was missing and she hadn’t even checked in with him. God, she felt so stupid. Her sobs overtook her as she sat at her bed.

She was so exhausted from the crying she could scream, it had been a few long hours. And Ki, in a moment of clarity, convinced herself that she was too strong for that. Even though she felt horrible, she reminded herself that she was too careful to let this anger get the best of her. Instead, she resorted to taking a few deep breaths and cleaning up the various books and stationary strewn across her bedroom floor as a remnant of her anger. What had happened had happened, she was just going to have to figure out how to cope on her own.

Yeah, I just have to figure it out on my own. I’ll be fine.

That’s when she heard it.

Thud.

Thud. Thud.

Thud.

‘What the-’

She realised that the sound was coming from her window. Stepping toward the side of her room facing the balcony, she realised that pebbles were currently being thrown at her window by a silhouette below it. She couldn’t tell who it was because the backdoor lights had been switched off for the night. It was well past midnight and her parents were soundly sleeping in the next room, she swore she would never forgive the person currently trying to break her window if they woke up. She didn’t want anyone to see her as the mess she was right now. So as quickly and as safely as Kiara could, she opened the balcony window, “What the actual— JJ? JJ is that you?” Kiara couldn’t really understand what was going on, she had stopped talking to the pogues months ago.

“Yeah, hey Ki! Come down!”

“What?”

“You heard me bro, get dressed and come down!”

After a curt nod, she went back into her room, changed out of her PJ’s into some joggers and a hoodie and found herself sneaking out the back door out of genuine curiosity. When she was outside, she realised that neither Pope nor John B were with JJ. Along with that, she realised that he had two boxes of pizza and some beer cans set down on the grass next to him.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was scrolling through Instagram, realised you weren’t at the party, thought you might need a pick me up,” He seemed to register her tired face and puffy eyes under the dim starlight because he continued, “guess I was right!”

And that’s how, twenty minutes later, JJ and Ki found themselves in a clearing near her house. They sat down opposite each other, the pizza boxes separating them.

“Got your favourite, double cheese, double pepperoni and half the jalapeño.”

Except for the occasional direction here and there, Ki had been quite their entire walk. She couldn’t really even process what was happening. How was JJ here? Why was he talking to her after she’d treated them him like shit the past few months? None of it made sense to her, least of all why this was all from JJ. With all of it perplexing her, the only thing she managed to say was, “You remembered.”

‘Yeah of course I did Ki, just because you stopped talking to us doesn’t mean we stopped caring about you. Come on, dig in, it’s getting cold.”

She didn’t know how to respond to him so she just followed him in picking up a slice from the box. Warm pizza , cold beer and melted cheese heavily complemented the gentle breeze that surrounded them. They fell into a comfortable silence as they ate.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know Ki-”

“No, everything I did these past few months, the way I cut you guys off, the way I left y’all when you needed me I-”

“Ki we know-”

“God, I’ve been so stupid, I left you guys, like y’all were nothing, y’all needed me and I-”

“Ki, Ki-” Ki just continued, she felt horrible, “KIARA!” JJ saying her full name was so foreign to her, especially since he hadn’t even call her by her nickname these past few months, it undoubtably got her to stop talking.

“I know the pressure your parents put on you to start at that kook academy. Look we all know how hard it is for you to manage these two parts of your life. I know Ki, you don’t have to keep apologising, I know. We know! Why do you think we didn’t try to talk to you when you told us last summer? We want you to do what’s best for you Ki, you are better than us.” At that, Kiara got up and paced back and forth a few steps, remorse hitting her unbearably. 

“I’m not better than any of you. A part of me wanted to leave you all behind.”

JJ’s response was almost instantaneous, “I don’t blame you for it!”

“Well you should! I left you and Pope. I left John B for god’s sake. His dad is most probably dead and I wasn’t theRE.... I-I’m not there.”

At this point the tears had returned to her and she broke on her last word. Her voice wasn’t steady anymore. “I left all of you... I left you.”

JJ couldn’t stand hearing Ki like this, there’s nothing he hated more than having to let down his guard and get real. But JJ, when she said that, realised that this wasn’t about him. 

“Yeah Ki you did, but fuck that. We know you love us, we know that it was a difficult call! You have to forgive yourself. The reason I came tonight was to let you know that you have the people that care about you Ki.”

He stepped toward her and looked her right in the eye, Ki had never seen someone so determined with compassion before, “Whatever you do Ki - if you wanna go to the kook academy, if you wanna be friends with Sarah Cameron, if you wanna cry about how horribly she treated you, if you wanna listen to your parents and not talk to us, if you wanna leave the cut- we’re never not going to have your back. You’re a pogue. You’re our pogue! And if Sarah Cameron can’t see how kickass you are, she doesn’t deserve you and she never did. You got us Ki, we’re always right here. No matter what.”

And throughout all of that, he hadn’t stopped looking directly at her. She was enamoured to say the least, she couldn’t remember the last time JJ talked about something that real, let alone carry an entire conversation himself. Knowing her words wouldn’t suffice, she hugged him. She smelt the sea salt in his hair and pizza grease on his shirt and it was the epitome of comfort to her. JJ hugged her right back, it meant the world to him that he could make her feel at least a bit better. They stood like that for a while, long and quiet breaths synced, arms entangled in waist and shoulders, hearts rhythmically beating, just enjoying the warmth of the best friend they dearly missed. 

Before they could completely untangle from the other, Ki looked back at JJ, god, how did she get so lucky to have someone like him in her life? The air lightened around them as she looked at him, his eyes regained the mischievous glint they always had. It might’ve been because she was slightly tipsy, or because he was staring so intently at her, but for some reason, it felt right. There was no waiting or thinking, she rested her hands on either side of JJ’s face and kissed him. His lips were chapped and they tasted like beer but she loved it. A rush of adrenaline ran through her, it was new and exciting. 

When JJ processed her soft lips on his, and her hands caressing his face, he pulled back. Along with confusion and surprise, there was something in his eyes that Ki couldn’t recognise. But before she decided on asking him what it was about, he was already kissing her again. 

And this time there seemed to be nothing holding him back. His hands were wrapped around her waist, she was grabbing fistfuls of his hair in reciprocation. They knew that they would never be able to do it again so they just gave in. His hands travelled to the small of her back and her neck and she swore that she had never felt something more intoxicating. 

Ki had forgotten where they even were when they broke for air. They were both just breathing, eyes closed and foreheads touching, it was the closest thing to perfect the either of them had ever felt.

When they opened their eyes and looked back at one and other, they were surprised at how comfortable it felt. How... un-awkward, it oddly felt right. But they knew what the rules were, they knew that when Ki got home, they would never talk about it again, and they were fine with that too.

As they approached her doorstep, JJ couldn’t help himself but ask, “Was that your first-” “Yeah.” “Yeah, mine too.” “What?” Kie thought he was joking, JJ had flirted with every other tourist at the boneyard since they were like ten, “Mine, too.” He repeated. There was an honesty to his response that stopped Ki from asking any further. 

She hugged him again. “Thank you for this. I missed you.” He hugged her right back.

“I missed you too. When you come back to us, more beer will be waiting for you no questions asked, don’t ever doubt it.” With that, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead and left. 

Ki had a small smile playing on her lips; she had never felt lighter in her life. 

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Fraxus Anastasia au #3

Fic under the cut ! Or on ao3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144866/chapters/57301969)

"Yoooo!!!!" Bickslow yells and immediately Laxus ? Yuliy ? gets snapped out of his stupour and pushes himself away from Freed, too aware of how close they had been. He can't shake the feeling of the man's breath hitting his ear like so, the ghost sensations leaving the tips of his ears burning.

"Sup fellas", Bickslow says as he strolls into the room, a woman somewhat reluctantly following him. "I brought an assortiment of snacks that could be classified as a fancy dinner if you aren't all that picky and I'm kind of counting on that." He winks at the both of them before plopping down on some couch and throwing the bag on a table. "Feast my underlings, your king has provided for you."

"I hate you", the woman spits out before turning her glare towards him. "And who is this fool?"

The fool himself would like to know too. With a lazy drawl in his voice, Freed joins the conversation. "His name is Laxus, you might've heard of him." The too large piece of chicken that Bickslow was trying to force into his mouth drops to the floor and the woman raises a single brow. "Right and my name's Evergreen Strauss." Picking the chicken leg back up from the floor, Bickslow points it at her. "I mean, it could be. It ain't that hard to add Strauss to it, all you gotta do is ask your boyfriend to become your h-u-s-b-a-n-d."

"Shut up, he isn't my boyfriend", she snaps before turning her attention back to the blond. "Laxus huh?" He shrugs. "Your friend is trying to sell it to me as well. Currently, I'm not believing him." A single smile slips past her guarded façade. "Good, you shouldn't. He's a pompous piece of shit." While Freed mildly protests her assessment of him in the background, Evergreen shoves Bickslow off the couch and seats herself on it. After extracting the couch from Bickslow, she takes the bag of snacks as well.

Patting on the empty spot next to her, she offers him to sit next to her. "Sit down and have a snack." Turning towards the other two men, she sticks out her tongue. "Bitches don't deserve anything, so don't even bother to ask." (Later on she ends up giving them more than enough.)

"I'm guessing these two have been awfully mean to you."

"No, it's mainly been Freed." The man in question makes an offended noise at this, but Laxus (he likes the name, okay? It's not like it's forbidden to use it. There are people with weirder names out there and he's an orphan so he has the right to choose) isn't done throwing him under the bus. As soon as the next opportunity arrives, he'll do it again.

Evergreen sighs at that and flicks Freed's forehead. 'You rude selfserving bitch, leave people alone." The man in question grumbles a little bit before dramatically flopping down onto the carpet. "Fine then. Oppress me even more." With a gentle smile Evergreen relays the following kind message to him. "Well, with the way you act, you deserve to be."

For a while no one says anything, but Laxus feels more than sees multiple pairs of eyes gliding all over his form. "If there's anything you guys want to say, just spit it out. You're creeping me out with the staring." Awkwardly Bickslow turns his head away as though he hadn't been staring (he's not a very convincing actor). Evergreen however isn't so inclined and continues to look at him, head a bit cocked. "Don't take it personal please, I'm merely assessing how big the chance is that you're our Laxus."

He lets her stare, opting to distract himself by fishing his necklace from shirt and twirling the dainty key attached to it between his fingers, trailing over the letters 'together in Paris' engraved in the tiny thing. The movement catches the attention of the three around him and while Bickslow is busy chocking on his chicken leg, Freed gives the other two a smug glance. "Shut up", Evergreens snaps before he can even opens his mouth, but the young man can't help but shrug cheekily. "Alright Ever dearest." At the open mockery, she decides to try suffocating him with a pillow. She doesn't succeed but the scene does draw a smile from Laxus.

After the bout of tomfoolery, Evergreen plops back unto the couch and shoos Laxus off it. "Fellas", she says addressing Bickslow and Freed more than him. "Tomorrow we'll be starting our journey to Paris. What do we do with him?" This time, she does address him, eyes boring into his soul.

"What does he want?" Freed hummed, faux-nonchalance painted across his figure. "Not that it really matters, I mean, our fourth train ticket is for prince Laxus and this young man says he isn't him. We can't take him  with us", the man says, checking his nails and refusing to even spare Laxus a glance. The way he talks over him as  though he isn't there grates on his nerves and he grits his teeth together. "I am him, that's what you said. Or are you going to take back your words now?"

"I am convinced, but are you?" The man's grin is infuriatingly patronizing and he tuts a bit at Laxus as though he's a child unable to make his own decisions. "I am the prince, alright? So my dearest subject", he smiles, spite colouring his words, "Shut the fuck up."

Holding his hands up as though Laxus' reaction wasn't perfectly reasonable, Freed sighs. "Oh prince of my heart, please do control your emotions. Such a blatant display of discontent is quite unsightly." Snorting, Evergreen gives Laxus a few pats on his shoulder. "I like you, please continue pissing him off. You're a good one Laxus."

Rolling his eyes, Freed lays down on the discoloured carpet beside the couch. "Our dearest future tsar is indeed quite lovely. I'm sure I'll dream of nothing but him", Freed taunted, eyes dragging across Laxus' entire form, a wicked grin playing along his lips. When their eyes inevitably met, Freed dragged out the words, "Nothing but my dearest prince", obnoxiously popping the 'p'. "Goodnight!" the man wished him with a wide, insincere smile before he wished Evergreen and Bickslow the same, fondness turning both his expression and voice kinder. It was a bummer that he couldn't be decent to Laxus like that. Wasn't that something akin to a capital crime?

"We'll be leaving early tomorrow morning, so you should try to catch some shut-eye as well", Bickslow explains before crashing right on top of Freed, who lets out a disgruntled little "oof". Evergreen curls up on the couch and Laxus awkwardly scans the room from his position on the floor. With a tired sigh he lays down unto the carpet as well, leaving a few feet between himself and the mass of limbs that's Freed and Bickslow. He doesn't want to get entangled with that.

Waking up, Laxus instinctively knows he's failed his resolution from the previous day. He's utterly engulfed in warmth and despite the hair in his mouth that's most definitely not his own, he decides to simmer in the heat for a while. Unused to the sensation, he draws the heatsource closer. In return his personal heater hums a little before tightening his arms around Laxus.

The little detail that throws him off though, is the insistent snickering around him. Reluctantly he opens his eyes and after blinking a few times to adjust to the light he looks at the being entrapping him.

It's Freed, because of course it is the most aggravating bastard on this unholy earth that has decided to interrupt his perfectly peaceful sleep. "Bitch", he mutters before looking up to meet the curious gazes of Bickslow and Evergreen. "Now that's a bit uncalled for baby", Bickslow judges and Laxus ignores him in favour of collecting a pillow from the couch. "It's time for him to wake up too, right?" Evergreen gives him a slight nod, but removes herself from the scene. He really should've thought harder about his following actions, especially considering that Bickslow scoots backwards too.

With an unforgiving force he brings the pillow in the direction of the greenhaired man's head. However, the two do not connect as Freed's eyes spring open and with a combination of both grace and brute force, he grabs Laxus by the arm and throws him over him, making him slam  into the corner of the nearby table.

"Ah fuck, sor-" As soon as he notices who exactly it is he attacked, he stops mid-apology. An infuriating smirk plasters itself onto his face instead. "Dear prince, as you can see I'm a jack of all trades." Leaning against his side, the man lets his fingers skips across Laxus' shoulders, whispering: "I'll protect all of this for you, everything inch from head to toe." Laxus tries to swat him away but the bastard proves to be annoyingly strong. He ends pushing against a cheek that feels surprisingly soft to distance himself from Freed.

"Boys, if you could stop fondling each other for a minute, we have to catch a train", Evergreen remarks dryly and Bickslow cuts in, "and breakfast, preferably. I'd kill for a meal."

"Then do it", Freed says, eyes wide open. "Human flesh is-" Laxus takes it upon himself to silence him by gagging him with his arm. Dragging the struggling man along, he nods at Evergreen. "Let's go", he says and sighs wearily. He's already regretting this.

Eventually he has to let go of Freed, because dragging a man along in that manner is a bit suspicious and he isn't looking to be arrested. Thanks to what probably is divine intervention, the man has decided to shut his wicked mouth for now. Instead he's letting his gaze slip over their surroundings, letting it hover at certain foodstalls. The overall expression of his face is inconspicious, innocent even with his slightly parted pink lips and youthful glow. But in the depths of his eyes swirl wayward lights and Laxus shivers. Who knows what this man is truly capable of?

Soon, he gets a demonstration of Freed's slightly shadier sides. Although he has to admit it's nothing he hasn't done himself and that Freed's probably not the only crook at work at this market. Approaching one of the vendors with a bright smile, Freed draws the man into a discussion about his wares. Are they the truly the best in town, as his sign says and other useless questions.

Provoked by the questions, the man offers Freed a sample, boasting about his quality. Freed nods along as the man explains the process of making the bread, interjecting with questions here and there. As the vendor launches into from one passionate speech into the other, Freed puts his nimble fingers to work.

It's the nonchalance of his actions that truly baffle Laxus. He doesn't even try to hide his actions, he casually swipes goods here and there and to top it all off? The vendor doesn't notice. At all. As someone who's gotten beaten quite a lot for getting caught pickpocketing, he's envious of the whole ordeal.

After purchasing a single slice of lemon cake and bidding the vendor goodbye, Freed returns to them. "I got you lot some breakfast, want it now or on the train?" Laxus' stomach rumbles at that very moment and as the tips of his ears colour slightly red, Evergreen doesn't spare him his dignity and gives a light chuckle. "Although circumstances", she glances at Laxus and he glares back, "seem to demand we have breakfast now, I'd advise to wait until we can sit down. I think it would make for a far more pleasing experience, right?"

Agreeing with her, they continue their walk. "Do you always gather your breakfast in that manner?" Laxus asks Freed and the man shrugs. "Is it of any importance dear prince? Is being fed not enough for your royal highness?"

"I'm wondering if you guys don't even have enough money to eat...How the hell are we going to get to Paris?" Freed's mouth falls open in a surprised 'o' shape and he covers it with his hand. "Oh my...there's some form of intelligence there after all", he gasps in faux-surprise.

As he moves to swipe at the guy, Freed swiftly stops him by shoving the lather large remnant of his slice of lemon cake into Laxus' mouth. Gross. That thing's been in the other man's mouth. He doesn't hesitate to voice his thoughts, but does throw in a little thank you because he had been hungry and contrary to other people, he knows what manners are.

"No problem", Freed says, voice honeyed and sweet. "The knowledge that you are enjoying your stolen goods, brings me the greatest happiness my dear prince!" Laxus swipes at him again and Freed dodges by smoothly skipping forwards. When he looks back and sees Laxus indignant face and puffed up cheeks, he lets out a laugh that sounds surprisingly close to genuine.

[ephemeral-afterlight]

Day 1: Shaky Hands

(So it begins.)

Whumptober 2019 Day 1: Shaky Hands

Word Count: 1364

Relationships: none

Warnings: suicide attempt, ambiguous ending, attempt to overdose on pills, implied u!patton (potentially redeemable)

A/N: yeah. please heed the warnings. the ending is ambiguous for now so if that isn’t your thing, or if you’re uncomfortable with description of a suicide attempt, stay away from this one.

The door to the bathroom closes with a soft click, a short echo in the small room that holds too much and simultaneously too little significance to him. It isn’t much, just a shower/tub combo, a sink, and a toilet, but it’s more than fine for what needs to happen. It’s here, and it’s away from the others, and it’s good enough. The sounds of the television and happy banter come muffled from the living room, nothing but a small portion of hallway to separate his final resting place from the antithesis. In there, it’s so filled with life, and love, and sounds, musical laughs and joking teasing bubbling up as a way to ease the tensions of the day. But in the bathroom? In here, it’s cold, quiet, sad, lonely, dying. 

It’s just like him, Deceit muses, a humourless smile working its way onto his weary face.

He decided this a long time ago, but honestly, it’s just been a matter of psyching himself up to doing it at this point. There have been times where he’s been close, so close to just getting it over with, but he always chickens out at the end.

Not this time.

Maybe he’s just being dramatic. Maybe it’s all in his head. He’s always felt out of place here, not just with the “light” sides, but with Remus too. He feels like an outcast, a loner who was forced into a box and hasn’t made his way out of it since. There’s nobody to talk to, nobody to relate to. He can’t even appear in front of the other sides without them sneering or rolling their eyes and he can almost feel the pure hatred rolling off of them in waves. He isn’t trying to be the bad guy. He doesn’t even want to be the bad guy. He just… wants to help. He’s always tried to help.

Lot of good that did him, huh?

As Deceit sits down in the empty bath, lays back against the wall and almost relishes in the familiarly uncomfortable, cold hardness meeting his head, he thinks of Virgil. Virgil, who used to be his best friend. Virgil, who would be the one to hear him out when he needed to rant about something. Virgil, who would cuddle with him at night and lend some bodily warmth just to make sure Deceit didn’t get sick or freeze to death. He remembers all the banter, all the happiness, all the times they laughed and joked around and did stupid stuff just because they were young and it was fun. And then Virgil got accepted by the light sides, got accepted by Thomas, and then it was like all of that history didn’t exist. Virgil suddenly hated him, for no reason that Deceit could pinpoint, and he still does. Deceit wishes that he knew what made Virgil do such a 180, knew what he did that was so unforgivable that Virgil can’t even stand to be in his former best-friend’s presence. He wishes he could apologize without immediately getting yelled at, wishes he could atone for a sin he isn’t even aware of.

As Deceit slips off his capelet, strips down to his long sleeved grey shirt and black slacks, he thinks of Patton. How he never really knew Patton, never really got a chance to understand. He thinks about the first time they were introduced to one another, when Deceit was still very young and desperately in need of guidance after the confusion that is a new side being developed and placed into the mindscape. Patton had been welcoming, so welcoming, and loving, and warm. Deceit wanted to stay with him forever. And then Deceit told Patton his purpose, told him his purpose proudly without realizing his mistake, and he had to watch as Patton’s stare shifted into something cold, something hostile. He cried as Patton told him he was evil, wrong for existing, he sobbed as Patton ushered him out the door and into the cold winter of the mindscape and locked the door behind him. He whimpered as the chill set deep into his bones, whined softly into the flurry with his heart slowing to near-fatal levels. He wonders why Patton hated him without even knowing his name. He wonders why he hated himself too, as Virgil found him half-buried in snow and took him into the “dark” sides’ common room to save his life.

As Deceit picks up the bottle of pills from where they sit beside the tub, turns the plastic over and over in his fingertips, he thinks of Roman. He thinks of Roman, who didn’t used to hate him, not at first. When they first met, Roman was excited to have a new playmate, a new friend to go on adventures with. But then Deceit was kicked into the cold, and the next time they saw each other, Roman pulled out his plastic toy sword and called him evil too. As they grew, and as Deceit became more and more bitter, the same routine never stopped. Roman always brandishes his treasured blade at even a glance of him, wicked sharp and too dangerous to wave around for dramatic effect. Deceit would know, since the scar on his shoulder still hasn’t faded a single bit.

As Deceit twists the cap, sighs at the sound of it falling to the ground beside the bathtub, he thinks of Remus. Remus, the one who has been there with Deceit for longer than Virgil has, but is still just as distant. It’s not as if he holds ill will towards Deceit specifically, but it’s more like he’s so caught up in himself and all of his “experiments” that he doesn’t have time for anyone else. Remus can go for weeks, even months without leaving his room, which has left Deceit completely and utterly alone for a majority of the life he’s lived as a side. They’re not enemies, but they’re not friends either, and Remus feels like a whisper in the wind, gone before you know it.

As Deceit shakes a pile of pills into his other hand, he thinks of Logan. Logan, who is the only one Deceit actually thinks might not despise him as much as the others do. He was the only one that day who looked uncomfortable with Patton’s words, the only one who opened his mouth to speak when Patton forced Deceit outside into the blizzard. But in his fear he remained silent, too afraid of being rejected or thrown out too to speak up. Logan hasn’t ever been outwardly aggressive towards him like the others have, but he hasn’t really been friendly either, so Deceit just left him alone. He doesn’t want to risk fucking something up again and making Logan hate him too.

Deceit stares blankly at the pills that jump in his quivering hand, and his mind rushes through every time he tried to help Thomas or one of the other sides but was demonized for it anyway. His head feels hazy, and his lungs quake in his chest, and he downs every single pill in the bottle a few at a time with hands that shake and tremble and ache.

His head is light, and he isn’t really thinking about anything in particular, but he does feel a relaxation take over every inch of his body. The pure relief that comes with finally doing what he’s wanted to do for so long, the knowledge that he will die and fade away and he’ll be replaced with a better version of himself, one that the others won’t hate, it makes his head fuzzy and his heart warm. Or maybe that’s the fatal dosage of medication. He doesn’t really care. He’s just glad to know that his death will make the others happy, that he’ll do something good for once, and that Thomas will finally be better off without such a dysfunctional side dwelling inside him.

His consciousness fades even with the pain beginning to bloom from his abdomen, and a soft darkness creeps in around the peripherals of his vision, and through his muffled hearing, he hears the bathroom door click open.

[avengerscompound]

Kintsugi - Chapter 3

Kintsugi: A Winterhawk Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x  F!Reader

Word Count:  2387

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Trigger warning for the aftermath of rape and torture, but no explicit rape or torture, angst, PTSD, smut (M|M and bit MMF, oral sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, frottage, double penetration).

Synopsis:  When you finally snap out of the mind control of the Winter Soldier Program, you feel guilty and broken. There are two men who know that exact feeling. While they aren’t the people they used to be, the people they are becoming with each other is something you find beauty in.

Chapter 3

Clint knew even as he pushed past Steve that he was overreacting.  Bucky was just trying to be honest with him.  Feelings were feelings you couldn’t help them.  He’d just wanted to talk.  Talking about feelings was always where Clint failed.  He could talk that was never the issue.  While Bucky was the strong silent type, Clint would take on forever with whatever random thought that popped into his head.  None of that was real though.  When thing for real, Clint usually bailed.

He knew as he was crawling up into the vents that he was just sabotaging things.  That he was punishing Bucky for something that he hadn’t even done.  He knew he should stop and go back.  He couldn’t seem to make himself, because really all that Bucky had done was remind him what a piece of shit he was.

The thing was he felt exactly the same and it felt wrong.  Not because he lived in a society where monogamy was pushed as the only way of having a relationship.  He’d known for a long time now that maybe it wasn’t for him.  Or at least he’d never really been able to make it work anyway.

You weren’t ready.  It would be taking advantage of a person in a vulnerable place and he’d already done that once with Bucky.  He’d seen a guy hurting, struggling with who he was and when he’d pushed for more Clint couldn’t say no.  Now it was happening again with you and Clint couldn’t be that person again, so instead of telling Bucky how he really felt he pushed it all onto his shoulders so it didn’t have to weigh Clint down anymore.

He sat brooding in the vent looking down at Bucky as he worked out his frustration in the gym.   He watched the muscles in Bucky’s back shift under his singlet as he pounded away at the heavy bag.  His mind fell back to the first time they’d had sex.  How they’d woken up curled into each other.  They’d woken not wanting to let the other go.

They’d started by just kissing.  They had done that a lot back then.  Kissing had felt right.  Both normal and forbidden.  Like they were stealing a little tenderness for themselves.  Making each other at least for a moment feel like they were normal people who could have love and intimacy and not people who had murdered innocent people.  

It was Bucky who had moved first.  His hand which had normally stayed above the waist hand slipped down into Clint’s boxers and wrapped around his cock.  It had felt so hot in comparison to the cold metal one that was pressed against the small of Clint’s back.  He wanted more.  Needed it and Bucky gave it willingly.  They’d gone slow, the world outside Clint’s bedroom ceased existing as the two of them.  It was just two lovers exploring each other and enjoying the feel of skin against skin.  The way Bucky moaned and whimpered and his muscles spasmed at Clint’s touch had made Clint feel special.  Trusted in a way few people seemed to trust him.  When Bucky slowly eased his cock inside Clint, as he looked into his eyes, he didn’t feel broken at all.

It was selfish to use Bucky when the man was still healing himself.  To drag you down the same path seemed unforgivable.

Over the next weeks, Clint completely withdrew.  He stopped talking to Bucky he stopped talking to you.  He returned to the functional depression he had become so used to.  Productive on a mission.  At home barely able to do more than drink enough to numb him and heat through food.

Natasha forced her way into his room after two weeks.  Fed up with the shattered mess the three of you had become again.  “Barton, where are you?”  She called as she picked up trash and gathered it into the one spot.  When he didn’t reply she groaned and moved into his room.

He lay on his back in the middle of his unmade bed staring at the ceiling.  A quarter filled bottle of Wild Turkey lay beside.  “Clint.”  Natasha groaned.

Clint didn’t move or acknowledge her.  Natasha picked up a pillow and threw it at him.  “Clint!”  She snapped.

Clint raised his head slowly and looked at her with bloodshot eyes.  “Fuck.  What Nat?”  He said, putting his hearing aids back in.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”  She sighed, sitting down at the edge of the bed.  “And I know you don’t give a shit about yourself.  So how about you think about the two people who now seem to be in mourning out there.”

Clint groaned and dragged his hand down his face.  “I am thinking about them.  I’m only thinking about them.”

“Talk to me, birdbrain.  What is going through that head of yours right now?”  She pushed.

Clint groaned again and took another swig from the bottle in his hand.  “Me and Bucky.  We were kinda together.”  He said without looking her in the eye.

“Yeah, no shit.  And there was no kinda about it.  Everyone knows.”  Natasha said, nudging him.

“Awww no.  Really?”  Clint whined.  “We were trying to keep it on the down-low.”

“So what are you doing?  Just gonna bail again like you always do?”  Natasha asked.

The blow was low, and Clint felt winded by it.  He lay back down and rolled onto his side away from Natasha.  “It’s not the same as normal.  Normally I get scared.”

Natasha lay down beside Clint and spooned him from behind.  “I’m not going anywhere until you spill, you know?”

Clint didn’t respond right away.  He just took the time to accept the comfort and the warm body against his.  “I shouldn’t have done it, Nat.  He was vulnerable.  I took advantage because it made me feel good.  But a decent person would have said it was too soon.  That he needed to heal more first.”

Natasha pressed her head to the back of Clint’s neck.  “Oh, you dummy.”  She said quietly.  “This isn’t what you think it is.  This isn’t someone taking advantage of another person who is weak.   That shit is wrong.  It’s unhealthy.  The weak person never gets strength because the strong one gets off on their weakness.  They use it to hold them in place and keep them passive.”   She explained.  “You and Bucky recognized each other.  You saw someone else who was hurt the same way as you and you took comfort in that recognition.  And then you used it to heal.  You were both getting better.”

“But everything he’s been through.  What they did to him.”  Clint argued.

“I know.  I was there for some of it.  It was awful, Clint.  He was treated like an animal.  But now he has us.  And you specifically.  And there’s someone else who needs you too.  Don’t punish her because you’re a dummy.”  Natasha said.

“But Bucky wants her.  Us.  I don’t know.  It feels wrong.  But I see it too.  We can’t do that.”  Clint babbled.

Natasha let out another sigh.  “You can’t let the world tell you how to heal.  You’re not an asshole and you don’t take advantage of people.  But let her make her own choices.  You’re not about to force it on her right?”

“Oh god, no,”  Clint said.  “I just … don’t you think it’s weird?  Or would be too confusing for her?  What if she ends up doing something she regrets because she’s still so used to people using her as a puppet?”

Natasha ran her fingers through his hair.  “Go patch things up with Bucky first.  Maybe you’re right.  But you know it was working with him.  Don’t punish him for speaking the feelings you were having.”

Clint sat up.  “Yeah.  I should talk to him.”  He looked at Natasha.  “How do you do that exactly?”

Natasha laughed.  “Well, first you go take a shower.  You stink.”

Clint jumped off the bed and headed straight to the bathroom.  He stopped at the door and turned back to Natasha.  “Thanks, Nat.   I owe you.”

“I’ll add it to the list.”  She said.

When Clint was clean and had shaved and dressed he went looking for Bucky.   After checking the gym and common area Clint tried his room.  He knocked and waited a moment.  “It’s open.”  Came the gruff reply from inside.

Clint let himself in.  Bucky’s place, normally a little more lived in, was now spotless.  Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.  He was drying his hair with another towel when he saw Clint and froze.

“I didn’t think you actually washed your hair.”  Clint teased.

Bucky rolled his eyes.  “You’re really funny, Clint.”  He snarked.  “Why are you here?”

“To apologize,”  Clint answered.  “Win you back?”

Bucky flopped down on the couch.  “I’m listening.”

Clint took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.  “I’m really bad at this.”  He said rubbing his head.  “Look.  I got it in my head that I was taking advantage of you.  That you wouldn’t be with me if you weren’t feeling so vulnerable.  Then when you… and I feel it too you know… but she’s so vulnerable.  It made me feel guilty and I thought it would be better for you if I left you alone.  But I’m also an asshole, so I made sure you felt guilty about it.”

Bucky looked up at him blinking.

“Say something.”  Clint pressed.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”  Bucky said.

“Yeah, I know.”

“A dumb, fucking asshole.”

Clint nodded and looked down at his feet.

“I love you, you fucking idiot.”  Bucky snapped.

Clint looked up at him, startled.  “I - you are… what?”

“I said I love you,”  Bucky repeated, signing the words as he said them.

“I’m sorry,”  Clint mumbled as Bucky approached him.

Bucky wrapped his arms around the blond.  “That was one of your allocated fuck-ups.”

“How many do I get?”  Clint asked looking up into Bucky’s eyes.

“I’ll decide when it happens,”  Bucky answered bringing his lips to Clint’s.  Clint wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck and pulled his body tightly against him.

Bucky pulled back gently and rested his forehead against Clint’s.  “I feel complete when you look at me, Clint.  Do you understand that?”

Clint swallowed.  “Yes.  I feel the same way about you.”

“You didn’t take advantage of me.  I knew what I wanted.”

“What do you want?”  Clint asked as his hands trailed up Bucky’s midriff.

“I want you,”  Bucky growled and pushed him back against the wall kissing him hard.  Clint wrapped a let around Bucky’s waist drawing him a little closer and making Bucky’s towel drop to the floor.  Bucky picked him up, their lips never parting from each other and carried the archer to his bedroom.  He dropped him on the bed and as Clint pulled his shirt up over his head Bucky worked at getting his pants down.  Bucky climbed up over Clint placing wet, sloppy kisses over his chest and stomach as his cool steel fingers closed around his cock.

“Uf… fuck… Buck.”  Clint groaned scrambling one hand above him trying to reach the bedside table as he ran the other down and gripped Bucky’s cock.

The two of them brought their cocks together and linked their fingers as they stroked them in tandem.  The muscles in Clint’s stomach pulled tight as a shudder ran up his spine.

“Fuck… fuck.”  Clint cursed still reaching above him.

“What are you trying to do?”  Bucky asked reaching above him and grabbing the lube.

“That.  Fuck Buck.  I need you.”  He pleaded.

“You’re kinda impatient you know?”  Bucky teased as he squirted lube onto his hand.  He closed it around both of their shafts again slowly pumping it and spreading the lube around.  “How do you need me, Clint?”

“I - uh… “ Clint whined his hips jerking up under Bucky.

Bucky leaned down bringing his lips to Clint’s ear.  “How do you want me, Clint?”  He whispered.

Clint swallowed, tilting his head.  The words had come in a little hard to discern, but he knew them nonetheless.  “Inside me.  Fuck me.”  He groaned his hips jerking up again.

Bucky nodded and shifted his position, so he was between Clint’s legs, he pushed Clint’s legs up and back leaning down and kissing him as he slowly guided his cock into Clint’s ass.

Clint moaned against Bucky’s lips, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s back and clinging to him.  Bucky’s cock stretched and filled him.  It pushed against Clint’s prostate sending a delicious tingle through his abdomen.  “Oh god.  Fuck.  I’m sorry, Buck.”

“I know,”  Bucky said and started to thrust.  The two men moved together.  Neither staying quiet.  Everything is forgotten except for each other and the pleasure they can share.  Clint begins to babble.  Cursing and begging Bucky.  He bites into his shoulder trying to stop from screaming out as he nears his release.  Bucky put his hand on Clint’s shoulder leveraging himself as he pushed deep into Clint.

“You gonna come, sweetheart?”  Bucky groaned.

“Yes, fuck yes.  Buck!”

“Come for me.”  He growled.

Clint’s muscles seized and his cock jumped before spilling over his stomach in ribbons.  Bucky kissed him hard again pulling out of Clint’s ass and coming too, their fluids mixing together on Clint’s skin.  They kept kissing as Bucky lay down on his side beside Clint.

They slowly eased off and broke apart and Bucky grabbed some wipes from his bedside table.  “Don’t ever do that to me again.”  He said as he gently cleaned Clint up.

“I won’t,”  Clint replied.

Bucky wrapped him in his arms and rested his chin on the top of his head.  “You think we’ll be okay?”

“Dunno.  Hopefully.”  Clint answered.

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes.  “Try and get some sleep.”

Slowly they both drifted off.  Feeling safe and real in each other’s arms once again.  At around one, you woke screaming and they both startled awake.  “You go,”  Bucky whispered.  “She thinks she did something.  You need to fix it.”

Clint got up and looked back at Bucky.  “Both of us.  We’re a team.”

Bucky smiled and climbed out of bed too and the two men went down the hall to find you.

// NEXT

[hxseok-honee]

i found | part 15

a/n: aye get ready for maximum flUFF IN THIS BOI - let me know what you think!

previous | next

__________________________________

“Are you kidding me right now?” Yoongi glances up from his dinner, brought to him by his favorite house elf, to look into Y/n’s eyes. She’s standing with one hand on her hip, observing his slightly beaten state with what he detects as disappointment swimming in her eyes. He rolls his own, turning fully in his spot to greet her.

“It’s not even that bad, stop looking at me like that time I accidentally transfigured your hair into yarn.” She can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes her, mad that he managed to bring this reaction out of her even in this situation. She takes a seat next to him and, ignoring all his protests, starts poking at his injuries to make sure none of them are serious. Annoyed by his attempts to evade her, she reaches out and smacks his arm, resulting in a groan of pain from a mouth full of food.

“What the fuck was that for?” Locating the potential bruise where her hand had made contact, Y/n tugs at his sweater until he aggressively agrees to remove it.

“It’s for being annoying and not letting me see where you’re hurt- can you help me out a little here? I’m trying to make sure I don’t need to drag you to the hospital wing.” He sighs, abandoning his dinner entirely to turn in his seat so she could pull at his shirt. He watches with a smirk as she focuses on unbuttoning it, not even realizing what she’s doing.

“Having fun?” It’s only now that she pauses in her attempts to be his doctor, finally understanding the situation she’s placed herself in. He holds in a laugh as he watches her turn incredibly red but regrets it immediately because as soon as she sees the look on his face, she’s reaching out to clamp down on his ear and tug it as hard as she can. He lets out a strangled yell, prompting the same house elf who brought him his dinner to appear in front of them. When she sees the situation before her, the tiny elf yelps once and disappears again, clearly as flustered as they are by the sight. Y/n releases Yoongi’s ear and leans away from him, leaving him to button his shirt again with a slight smile on his face.

“You’re so much more frustrating now that you actually talk to me.” Yoongi lets out a genuine laugh at her comment, causing her to turn her head and stare at him in the same wonder she always feels when he so much as smiles at her. Amusement still lingering on his features as he finishes buttoning his shirt, he glances up at her and catches her gaze. They hold it for just a second, the tiniest of moments, but Yoongi finds himself struggling to breathe even after she’s looked down at her lap. Pushing his relatively full plate toward her, he points at it with his chin.

“Have some. I’m not really that hungry, and you like those mashed potatoes more than I do, anyway.” She smirks down at it, choosing not to say anything about the fact that he’s taken note of what she eats. Lifting her head to peer at the side of his face and finding herself frowning at the cuts she sees on his skin, she pushes the plate away and meets his eyes steadily.

“Only if you promise to stop fighting.” He frowns back at her before averting his gaze, leaning his elbows on the table as he studies the designs on the wood.

“I don’t think I can agree to that. I don’t even start half of them, and I’m not just gonna let some arrogant kid beat my ass. Anyway-” He lifts his eyes again to meet hers. “-why do you care so much? I’m obviously fine, Y/n. A couple scratches and some bruises aren’t enough to do real damage.” She tilts her head to examine him closely, not even looking away when he starts to fidget under her gaze.

“I don’t like seeing my friends get hurt.” He sighs at her, shaking his head slightly as he keeps his eyes on anything that isn’t her.

“It’s not me you have to worry about. You should save all those concerns for your other friends. They’re not gonna be happy when they find out about me.” Swallowing hard when he hears her noise of surprise, he waits for her to respond as he keeps his eyes on the table.

“What do you mean? Where did that come from?” He shrugs awkwardly, like a disgruntled child, as he grabs his fork and starts pushing food around on his plate.

“It’s just something I’ve been thinking about for a few days… that they’re not going to treat you well after they find out about this.” He doesn’t even have to look to know she’s frowning.

“This?”

“Us.” He says it quickly, so quickly that she almost doesn’t catch it and even starts to ask him to repeat himself when it registers in her mind. Blinking a few times as she turns slowly to look at him, she’s not surprised that he’s not meeting her eyes again, but she’s a little shocked to see his knee bouncing anxiously and his ears turning a bit red. She tries to keep the smile off her face, but it seems to be happening without her permission. Clearing her throat once and taking note of the way his knee pauses at the sound before continuing its anxious bouncing, she addresses him as if things weren’t just a little uncertain between them.

“Well, they’ll probably be mad, that’s for sure, but… I mean, it’s not a crime to be friends with someone! Even the big bad Slytherin Prince.” She says the last part with a chuckle, hoping he’ll join in, but all he does is turn to examine her closely. Y/n coughs awkwardly, even going as far as taking the fork out of his hand and shoveling some of the mashed potatoes into her mouth as she wonders why it’s suddenly gotten so weird. Finding that he hasn’t looked away, she frowns at him slightly. “What is it this time? Was the Slytherin Prince joke in bad taste or something?”

“Don’t you realize that’s actually who I am, Y/n?” Taking her widened eyes and confused expression as permission for him to clarify, he continues speaking after a long sigh.

“All those rumors and ideas that everyone has about me? A lot of them are obviously bullshit, but the image is fairly accurate, Y/n. I’m the person that everyone avoids in the corridor. I’m the guy that every other guy in this place has tried to fight at some point to deal with their fragile masculinity- I put people in the hospital wing every week for fuck’s sake! And, what? You want to take care of me when I show up with a little cut on my face? You want to stick up for me to your friends when they find out about me? Why? Why would you put that kind of pressure on a group of friends that’s been together since first year- what could I possibly offer you that makes you willing to deal with all the trouble I’m going to bring you? I just-” Yoongi cuts himself off with a noise of frustration, running a hand through his hair as he finishes quietly. “-I just don’t get it. I don’t get you.”

Y/n watches him as he rambles, finally seeing everything he thinks of his position in her life. She sees the frustration in his eyes, the way he starts to breathe heavily and gesture to himself almost manically the longer he talks about himself, the longer he tries to convince her that he’s a bad person. She sees it all, and she hates it.

“That’s bullshit.” She meets his eyes fiercely when his head whips around at her words. She stares into his eyes, unyielding, as he processes what she’s just said to him. She can see that he’s shocked by the fact that she just negated everything he’s said to her, but he doesn’t bother questioning her because his questions are all there, in his eyes.

“That’s bullshit, Yoongi. I can’t tell if that’s what you actually believe about yourself or if it’s just what you’re trying to convince me of, but I’m not fooled. That’s not who you are, it’s just who you want people to think you are. I don’t know why you do it, I really don’t, but it’s not you. That guy who walks around ruling the castle with cold eyes and an unforgiving fist is not Min Yoongi. That’s just who you have to be to survive. But you don’t have to be that guy with me, so stop fucking pushing me away like you’re worried that one day I’m going to decide you’re no good for me. I’m not going anywhere.” With an annoyed sigh, she picks up his fork and keeps eating the food he’s clearly forgotten about, letting him know she’s done talking. She’s prepared to give him another speech just in case he argues with her again, but when she looks up at him, he’s staring into her eyes like he’s seeing her for the first time.

It takes all of Yoongi’s strength not to show all the emotions he’s beginning to feel. He stares at her for a few minutes after she’s finished her rant, taking her in as she steals his food and then meets his eyes almost in challenge. When he realizes he’s looked for too long, he clears his throat and looks down at his lap. He’s not entirely sure how he feels. Is he upset that she’s called him out so honestly, or is he just shocked that she’s been this aware of him the whole time? Either way, he has nothing else to say besides-

“Okay.” He hears her little hum of confusion, and she comes into his line of sight as she’s leaning in to hear him better.

“What’s that?” He lifts his head slightly to meet her eyes, blinking several times when he sees how close she’s actually gotten. The whisper that leaves him is not exactly what he intended to say, but he can’t help that he’s a bit distracted in the moment by her proximity.

“I said okay. I won’t push you away anymore. I promise.” They stay that way for a few moments, not even realizing that they’re both just sitting there staring at each other until there’s a loud popping sound right next to them, followed by the sweet house elf’s kind voice.

“Would Mister Min and Miss Y/l/n like anything else to eat or drink?” She says all this while scooping up the empty plate on the table, not noticing that she might have interrupted a personal moment. Y/n leans back, giving herself some room to breathe and try to cool her face while Yoongi tugs at his collar awkwardly.

“U-uh no, Cimny, thank you, we’re all good.” After bowing deeply to Yoongi, she disappears with another loud popping sound, leaving him alone again with Y/n, who looks mildly confused.

“Cimny?” Yoongi takes a glance at Y/n before smiling shyly.

“She’s my family’s house elf.” Y/n lets out a noise of surprise, something Yoongi’s learned over the past few weeks is very standard of her as she tends to be shocked by a lot of the things he tells her.

“Really? Why’s she here then?” He smiles even more shyly than before, realizing he’ll have to tell her quite a bit more than he anticipated tonight.

“Uhm, my father asked the headmaster to, for lack of a better word, hire her for the duration of my time here so she could kind of look out for me. First year was a rough time for me…” Y/n stares at the side of his head for a minute, trying to grasp what he’s telling her, and it clicks in that moment that the entire Slytherin Prince reputation only came about in their third year. Yoongi takes another look at her and sees the recognition in her eyes. He nods slowly, confirming her thought process.

“A lot of people picked on me first year- all Slytherins actually. I guess they didn’t like that I wasn’t big on fitting in and liked to keep to myself. A few of them made a habit of pushing me around and taking my glasses- you remember those big ass glasses I used to have? Those thick ones that made me all bug-eyed? I don’t know if you even knew who I was back then…” Y/n smiles fondly, vaguely remembering the one class she’d had with the Slytherins first year. There, in the corner of her memories, sits a quiet kid with large, round frames practically half the size of his head.

“I remember. I liked those glasses.” Yoongi scoffs loudly, reaching over to push her gently as he shudders at his own memory.

“Whatever, asshole. Anyway, those same kids used to take my glasses during meals so that I couldn’t see for shit, and then they would slip stuff into my food to make me sick. Cruel bastards, I tell you.” He sees the frown the etches itself onto her features, and he can’t help the way he reaches over to pinch her cheek. “Don’t give me that look, it’s not like it’s happening now.” Y/n pulls away, rubbing her face as she responds.

“I know, but it’s still frustrating that you were going through that alone. I had no idea…” Yoongi chuckles softly, staring into the distance almost darkly.

“That’s the thing about snakes. They protect their own. There was no way anyone would find out about any inside torture because everyone covers for each other. But I guess after the third round of food poisoning and one too many nights in the hospital wing, my father picked up on the fact that something was weird, so he sent Cimny to look after me. I guess she watches my plates for me from here in the kitchens every time I eat.” The entire time Yoongi’s speaking, he’s looking down at his hands or scratching at some of the chipped wood in the table, so when he finally looks up at Y/n, he’s pleasantly surprised to find her listening attentively, watching him curiously as he speaks. He expects her to just accept his story and move on to something else, but it seems she’s much more invested in storytime than he was aware.

“So then what happened?”

“What?” She smiles softly, repeating herself.

“What happened after Cimny got here?” Yoongi stumbles for a response, not really sure why this is so interesting for her.

“Uh… nothing? I was fine after that? I think she just always took out all the stuff they would put into my food before I could eat it. I also think she still watches my plates to this day, which I feel kinda bad about since it’s not really necessary anymore. So I come visit her pretty regularly. Ask her how she’s doing and whatnot…” Yoongi sees her smile widen, and it causes him to furrow his eyebrows. “What?”

“You come visit Cimny? That’s so cute.” He rolls his eyes at her, tempted to push her over again, but he lets her have her fun.

“Sue me for being worried that she gets lonely down here- oh, shut up!” She’s laughing softly now, the image of the evil, scary Yoongi coming to make sure his house elf has a friend striking a bit odd to her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just love it so much, it’s adorable. Who knew you were hiding all these soft tendencies under that hard shell?” He shakes his head at her, secretly happy that she’s having so much fun but refusing to ever show it. He just listens to her laughter, enjoying the sweet sound more than he cares to admit. He’s so busy listening to her laugh that he almost misses her question.

“So how did you become all this then? How’d you go from the bullied, bug-eyed kid with the guardian elf to king of the castle even as a second year?” Yoongi smirks at her, unable to restrain himself.

“It’s ‘prince’, thank you very much- Hey!” He’s rubbing the spot on his leg that she’d decided to unceremoniously pinch in response to his snarky comment, wondering where she’d been hiding all this aggression the past few weeks. “For your information, I didn’t become Prince overnight. I had a lot of help, and I got my ass beat second year more times than I can count. It wasn’t until third year that I started to fill out and could hold my own against the older kids.”

He knows Y/n’s going to let out her little hum of surprise again so he mimics it in time with her, giving her a smug look when she hears him. She grabs at him again but doesn’t get the chance to do anything before he’s catching her hands in his own, bringing her wrists together and holding them with one hand. He pulls her closer so he can sit comfortably, and they end up rather close, their shoulders pressed together as Yoongi holds her leg with his other hand to stop her from attacking him again with her other limbs. He continues his story like this as if they don’t look ridiculous, and Y/n sits through it as quietly as she can, trying to force herself to focus on his words instead of the warmth of his hand on her leg.

“So yeah, anyway, it was about halfway through first year when some seventh year Slytherins took mercy on me and decided to take me under their wings. They’re the closest I’ve ever come to friends- I mean, except you I guess-” Y/n bites her lip to hide the smile threatening to peek out as he stumbles for the right words, nodding along like nothing’s happening. “-and then they taught me how to duel, some pretty advanced hexes and stuff like that. They basically took care of me for the rest of the year, and then they just wished me luck and left. To be honest, I owe them a lot.” Y/n listens diligently, caught between being upset that an eleven-year-old kid had to learn all of those things just to survive at school and being amazed that he had managed to take those impromptu lessons and fight his way to the top.

“So that’s your origin story, huh?” Yoongi glances down at her, laughing quietly.

“If you wanna call it that, I guess.”

“Thank you for telling me all of that… You didn’t have to, you know. But I’m glad you did.” He stares down at her, feeling awkward at her sudden gratitude, but he knows she’s like this a lot so he figures he’ll get used to it eventually. And anyway, he doesn’t really remember a time he had ever talked this much to another person- except for the first night in the astronomy tower, but even then she was pulling answers out of him like it was the most painful thing either of them had ever been through. He realizes now that he actually spoke a lot tonight by his own choice. He’s not really sure what to make of it.

Whatever, she said she wanted me to stop pushing her away. It makes sense.

Glancing at her again and realizing she’s been waiting for an answer, he clears his throat and lets go of her wrists, giving her a chance to scoot away from him if she wanted. He notes that she doesn’t move as far as she had been before, keeping her right leg in contact with his left and letting their shoulders brush every so often. He tries not to smile when he notices, covering his mouth with his hand and leaning his elbow on the table.

“It’s fine. It’s not like it’s some super big secret or anything… but you’ll have to tell me your ‘origin story’ one day soon, too. I don’t like all these unequal sharing sessions we got going on.” She laughs loudly, throwing her head back slightly at how entertaining it is to hear him complain.

“I don’t think I have an origin story, but okay. One day I’ll tell you all about my relatively boring life here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry-” She pulls her phone out of her pocket, gasping when she sees how late it is. “-But not tonight because it’s almost 1 am! Let’s go, I have a quiz in Care of Magical Creatures tomorrow.” She wraps a hand around his wrist and pulls him off the bench, dragging him across the room toward the door and laughing at his protests and complaints that she should have told him earlier that she had a quiz so he could watch the time for her.

When they’re standing outside the kitchens, she turns to face him, keeping her hold on his wrist as she jerks her head in the direction of her common room.

“Well, obviously I have to go this way, so I’ll say bye here…” Yoongi nods lamely at her, wondering why he doesn’t have it in him to just say goodbye and leave. They stand there for a few moments, looking around as they wait for the other to speak first. Finally, Yoongi starts to move the wrist that’s still caught in her grasp, twisting it until he can comfortably grip her arm and pull her toward him. It takes forever, and it’s so painfully awkward that Yoongi regrets his decision before he can even do anything, but eventually he manages to bring her close enough that he can let go of her and wrap both of his arms around her shoulders. He tries not to stiffen when he feels her own arms encase his waist, relaxing fully only once they’ve been standing there for a few moments and he knows she’s fine with his weird hug.

Another moment passes and he’s patting her back in an awkward attempt to end the hug, but she gets the cue and lets him go with a soft chuckle.

“We’ll work on that… Good night, Yoongi.” He nods and smiles almost warmly at her, waving as he backs away in the opposite direction.

“Good night...” Yoongi waits until she’s through the entrance to her common room before turning away and heading in the direction of the dungeons. He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t see the 6th year Gryffindor standing around the corner, out of the way and trying to process what the hell he had just seen. Pulling out his phone and re-reading the messages from Namjoon asking him to see if he could find their badger friend who had disappeared without telling them where, Jungkook sighs and recalls the scene he had witnessed not even 5 minutes prior- the way Y/n had pulled Yoongi out of the kitchens with a bright smile on her face, the weird moment they’d had as Yoongi brought her into his arms like they were friends-

Is that it? Is that who she’s been spending her time with? Min Yoongi??

[jksangelic]

more than friends (m)

↳ rating: M

↳ genre: smut, angst, tiny fluff, roommate!jungkook, 

↳ pairing: reader x jungkook (ft. taehyung as the “fuck buddy”)

↳ warnings: dom themes, daddy kink (I’m sorry I know), breath play, bondage (?), overstimulation, phone sex but not the kind you’re thinking of, jungkook has tattoos (-: maybe slight dubcon???? exhibitionism????? what ISN’T in this )-: 

↳ summary: you and jungkook have been roommates and close friends for a couple years, and you’re oblivious to the fact that the only reason why he hates your recent fuck-buddy is because he has the fattest crush on you. 

↳ note: i actually wrote this for a friend, so, um. this is for you, bitch. i spent days on this. anyway, to anyone else reading this trash, enjoy, you heathens!

↳ words: 7,694+

↳ series: one | two | ?

if you prefer to read this on ao3, click here.

“Tae,” you breathe, extending your neck and allowing him to litter kisses and scrape his teeth along your jaw, “Taehyung, he’s going to be home any second now.”

His large hand slides down your bare stomach, trailing his blunt nails up and down until he finally sneaks under your flimsy t-shirt and massages a breast. You internally thank yourself for forgetting to wear a bra and let your pleasure be heard.

Taehyung responds by humming lowly, letting you feel the vibrations through the hickey he was working on above your collarbone. You’ve always scolded him for leaving marks when he wouldn’t let you return the favor, but he was dominant in every aspect and shut out every rule you’ve ever given him; not that it was too much of a bad thing anyway.

For a second, he lifts his head, noses touching and eyes mocking, “So what? Not like you care when he’s home anyway.”

You roll your eyes and push him away, causing him to slump back to the end of your couch. He props his leg up devilishly, fully aware that his hard-on is on display and watching you with his head tilted back; he was testing you.

The act in itself was tempting, but the fact that it was Kim Taehyung, with long silver locks that covered one eye and parted for the other, his infamous boxy-grin that displayed wickedly perfect teeth, and golden skin that resembled honey was enough to make you hot and bothered.

Taehyung was a simple man; known as nothing more than an untouchably attractive philanderer that had taken a particular interest in you a little over a month ago. You had taken this “interest” to heart, thinking you could have been the woman to change his ways. However, upon confessing your feelings to Tae, he immediately turned you down and informed you of the other women he kept in his pockets, even during your intimate time together.

It hurt, sure, but leaving him and abandoning the pleasure he gave you was too many losses in one day. Even more, your pride was already crumpled from the events and you figured bouncing back with the “friends-with-benefits” proposition would keep you from feeling like a complete idiot.

“Sorry, hon, but you’re only supposed to be here to pick up your laptop,” you smirk, leaning forward and nestling your head in the crook of his groin, playfully nipping at the material of his sweatpants. “You have a date with Serena soon anyways.”

A growl rumbles in his throat, suddenly remembering the event he drunkenly planned at Jimin’s party the previous night.

The both of you being distracted by your own thoughts, you must have not heard the click of the front door upon a guest’s entry.

“Fucking gross. Y/N, you have a room for a reason. Fucking use it.” Jungkook aggravatingly spits, chucking his gym bag next to the kitchen island and raiding the contents of the fridge with vigor.

Removing your head from its comfortable spot, you pull your shirt back down and rearrange yourself as to not show your whole ass in your, conveniently for Tae, very short workout spandex to your roommate.

“Hi, Kookie. How was your day?” You retort with a fake, syrupy voice. When he doesn’t answer, you look back to Taehyung, who has softened and reached out for his laptop before tucking it underneath his arm.

“Alright, alright, prick. I’m leaving.” Tae chucks up his signature “V” to Jungkook, who was now eating a slice of pizza, and heads for the door.

After the door shuts, you attempt to sneak past Kook without further interrogation, but know better when he suddenly clicks his tongue.

“He’s such an ass, Y/N. You deserve so much better than that and you know it.”

You roll your eyes, having heard this before. You spin on your heel, walk towards Jungkook and lean on the fridge.

“We’re just friends and you know this. The benefits are mutual and I’m content with the way it is.”

“You’re that desperate for dick, huh? That’s pathetic.” He says, shoving a ridiculously large bite of pizza crust into his mouth.

“At least I’m having sex, Kookie. When was the last time you blew your load without the assistance of baby lotion and your right hand?”

With this, he rolls his head in annoyance and scoffs. “You’re a bitch.”

You wink, snatch the rest of the pizza crust that resorts in his hand, and finish it off while heading back to your room. Nothing was more enjoyable than winning a fight with him.

Your roommate, Jeon Jungkook, is nothing short of a temperamental college dropout. When you had first met, you were blinded by his straight dark hair, charming looks, and tattoo-cluttered arms; but a month into your quiet-yet-friendly living quarters, it was as if his free trial was over, and you now faced the full price and wrath that was Jungkook.

Jungkook was very… blunt, and in some ways, you really appreciated that. In others, you sometimes wished he would just shut the fuck up. Highly opinionated and judgmental, having him around was like having four older brothers living under the same roof consistently nagging you over anything you did.

Needless to say, it was difficult to talk about your personal love endeavors with him. Even though he was your friend, he treated you like you were naïve, and sometimes you knew you were, but it didn’t mean he had to undermine your actions or assume the worst. Even more, his whole mood inconveniently shifts from jerk to full-blown asshat, the recent conversation only scratching the surface of his regular lashings.

Aside from that, over the course of a couple years, you had finally grown comfortable of Jungkook’s disposition and loved him very much. Did you wish he would pick up around the apartment more? Sure. Did you ever try convincing him that blasting his music on his various speakers at 2AM is very annoying? Oh, yes. Did you embarrassingly beg him to stop leaving his jizz-filled tissues blatantly laying around in his room or on top of the bathroom trash bin? Unfortunately so.

But the world works in unforgiving ways and as much as you had wished for a quirky young female roomie to reply to your Facebook post, you got the galaxy’s cutest gangbanger.

After wasting a few hours on YouTube, you decide to wash up for the night; taking your phone, a pair of panties, and your favorite button-up that Jungkook gave you, you make your way to the shared bathroom and lock the door behind you. (There have been enough embarrassing encounters of Jungkook walking in on you, thank you very much.)

As the steaming water runs down your body, you can’t help but think of Taehyung. You knew you wouldn’t get any farther with him, but you couldn’t imagine leaving the relationship—or whatever it was, entirely. Maybe Jungkook was right, even though you established a strict boundary of “friends-with-benefits”, it was still toxic in the sense that you harbored fondness for Taehyung.

You knew one day you would have to end things for your own sake, but even then, being scarred from the first attempt at explaining your feelings made confrontation difficult for you.

Your mind went on like this for a while, looping back and forth between being uncomfortably content with the current situation and positively anxious knowing that you need to save yourself from getting any more involved.

Realizing you’ve been drowning in your self-pitying thoughts for the past twenty minutes, you finish washing your hair and shut off the, now cold, stream. Out the corner of your eye, you spot the flash of your phone and notice Tae had texted you a few minutes ago.

“Date didn’t go too well. Want to spend the night tonight? We can watch a movie or two if you’d like.”

And as simple as that, you caved like you weren’t silently combusting over your dilemma just twenty seconds ago.

“I’ll be over in 30,” you send, slamming your phone back onto the counter like it was the source of your disappointment. Throwing on the clothes you brought into the restroom, you walk back into your room and plop onto your bed face-first.

Jungkook must have smelled your distress as you heard him pad through the hallway and knock on your door almost immediately.

“Come in,” you muffle into your pillow.

“You look tired. Did you masturbate yourself to sleep?” He asks, potato chip bag in one hand and the other shoveling some into his mouth. God, that guy was a walking vacuum.

“Sadly, no,” you mutter, “I’m having an existential crisis.”

He frowns at this and plops down next to you in bed, his large body consuming your twin-size mattress. “What’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it?”

You shrug, “Not really. It’s just boy stuff.”

He looks appalled, throwing his hands in the air and spilling chips in the process, “I am a boy! How much more qualified do I need to be?”

You tilt your head and give a ha-ha before standing up and busying yourself with folding clothes or moving something from one place to another; antsy.

When you stand, Jungkook notices your very… revealing choice of clothing. When Jungkook had given you his old shirt, he had not expected you to utilize it as much as you did, and frankly, it made his heart and his dick jump at the sight almost every time.

As if the heavens had heard his pleas, you conveniently reach for a high shelf in your closet and expose the black lace panties that hid under his shirt. Gulping, Jungkook scrambles to look at anything else but you.

Breaking his trance, you suddenly speak, “Oh, by the way, I won’t be home tonight. I have plans. Do you mind just running the next laundry load while I’m gone?”

He ignores the chore you assign him and inquires, “Where are you going?”

Your movements stutter, knowing that if you told him you were spending the night at Taehyung’s, he would throw a fit. But whether you answered him or not, he knew.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes with balled fists, acting as if he held the world’s responsibilities on his shoulders.

“I know you’ll, like, cut my dick off or something but I swear to God, someday, I will pummel his face into oblivion.”

You giggle in amusement and locate the nearest duffel bag to shove clothes into. “I know, Kookie.”

He grunts, “If you know he’s shitty, why do you keep feeding him? Taehyung is like, bottom-of-the-barrel shit.”

You pout to him and zip up your things. Somewhere in your actions, you managed to find shorts and Jungkook is internally disappointed.

“Don’t be mean. He can be a good guy sometimes.”

“My ass, Y/N. If you looked up ‘small-dicked bastard’ in the dictionary, his face pops up. I know it,” he continues.

“Jungkook,” you throw a stuffed animal at his face, “literally shut up. If you’re going to harass me anymore before I leave, you can escort yourself back to your own room.”

He ignores you and furrows his brows, “Like, I’ve accidentally seen his dick, no thanks to you by the way; it’s not even impressive!” He begins counting on his fingers, “He’s small, he’s dumb as fuck, he doesn’t even like you that way—”

“Jeon Jungkook!” you yell in vexation.

“—he won’t ever love you, Y/N, that’s honestly just some bullshit fantasy of yours. You’re so blind to it and I can’t stand to pity you anymore,” he claims nonchalantly.

You froze, his comment figuratively slapping you in the face. For a second, the room is absolutely quiet and you feel blood rush to your face. Not only were you mortified, but livid at how easy it was for Jungkook to spew such an exclamation.

Your eyes sting and tears threaten to fall. Jungkook must have noticed because his eyes suddenly bulge and he’s sitting up quick.

“Y/N?” he voices with concern.

He won’t ever love you.

And as much as you needed to hear that exact sentence, you never wanted to hear it from someone like your best friend. He was right in every sense; Tae would never sympathize enough to genuinely interpret your feelings and reciprocate them, but now that it was said aloud and floated in the air, you wanted to sob.

More concerningly, Jungkook would never go this far in any of the conversations you two have had about Taehyung. Even he knew his boundaries, and you trusted him to still respect your heart as a woman. You trusted him and you were entirely wrong and he somehow managed to rip your heart out and stomp on it and give you his large, round puppy eyes like he was oblivious to how bad that hurt.

Ever so quietly, you breathe, “Fuck you.”

Jungkook watches as you wipe at your sniffling nose and red eyes. “What?”

“Fuck you!” you fume, grabbing your bag and storming towards your door, “get out of my room!”

He chuckles, “Are you serious? Baby, chill out. Come here and give me a hug or something.”

You flash him a close-lipped smile before slamming your door on him.

“Fuck all the way off,” you say to no one in particular. On the way to the front door, you snatch Jungkook’s Jeep keys off the coffee table, now declaring he won’t need the car for the night and march out of the apartment.

When you finally load your stuff into his black Jeep and fling yourself into the driver’s seat, you decide to give yourself a few minutes to cool off.

It wasn’t too big of a deal, you’re sure Jungkook’s fat mouth just got the best of him, but it still made you vehemently emotional. You weren’t head-over-heels for Taehyung either, but you were embarrassingly afraid of being alone and you desperately sought for affection, which is actually really dumb now that you think about it.

You sighed as you realized that you may have been oversensitive, but nonetheless, the fight only occurred ten minutes ago, and it would be best if you just left.

Reaching into your bag to grab your phone and text Tae, you feel your brain melt into realization.

You left your phone in the restroom from when you showered.

Lady Luck surely wasn’t on your side today, but you were very dependent on your phone and you would rather walk back inside, tail between your legs, than be petty enough to leave it entirely just because of a measly dispute.

Hopping out of his ridiculously lifted Jeep, you ride the elevator back to your floor and try to open the door as quietly as possible. Perhaps Jungkook wouldn’t even catch you coming back in if he was in his room.

Cautiously tiptoeing through the hall, you recognize the groan of the pipes in the walls and curse silently; Jungkook was showering. In the only bathroom of the apartment. With your phone comfortably laying on the counter.

Fortunately, he left the door ajar enough for your body to slip through and grab it without his knowing, hopefully. In front of the door, you can hear the shower stream fluctuating, assuming he must be washing still, you go for the kill only to be horrified by the occurring events.

Jungkook fucking moans; and not just a “yeah-this-shower-is-relaxing” moan, but a fully-fledged whine.

Suddenly, you hear, what you surmise to be, the rapid sounds of Kook pumping himself in the water and you force yourself to bite down on your lip so hard as to keep yourself from laughing, crying, or a pathetic combination of the two. You should just grab your phone and leave, but he doesn’t stop.

“Ah… Y/N…” Jungkook growls, stopping you in your tracks.

You whip your head to look back to the shower; did he catch you walking in on him?

Seeing that the shower curtain was, indeed, closed, it takes you a few moments to interpret why he called your name.

“F-Fuck, Y/N,” he grunts out again, voice low and heavy and you swear to god it rattled throughout your bones.

He’s fucking jacking himself off to you.

Jeon Jungkook, your hot-ass roommate that was also your best friend, is masturbating to the thought of you and is continuing to call out your name like it’s the sweetest fucking thing in the world.

You suddenly feel like you’re intruding and do your best to escort yourself as quick as possible from the bathroom, face hot and limbs resembling jelly. You retire in his room since its closest and sit on his desk, unfortunately now having to wait until he is out because you were too much of a wuss to grab your phone in the first place.

You’re in awe to think this is the first time you have ever caught Jungkook, let alone be the source of his sexual desires. Your mind failed to replay any moment where Jungkook seemed even remotely interested in you, so you just idled stupidly, twiddling your fingers while you hear Jungkook shut off the water in the other room.

Not wanting to risk the chance of him showing up naked, you voice your presence, “J-Jungkook! I’m in your room. Can you grab my phone?” you call out rather squeakily. In the midst of your question, Jungkook audibly startles and shuffles around before appearing in the doorframe, making eye contact with you.

Eyes wide and skin reddened from the shower, he doesn’t say anything as he walks inside and chucks your phone onto his bed. Facing his back towards you, he manages a sentence.

“When did you come back?”

“Uhh,” you start, distracted by the amount and depth of the tattoo that stretches across his back and shoulder blades. A traditional Japanese-style design is perfectly canvased on his muscular back; lotuses, peonies, and chrysanthemums perfectly mixed into black waves and god it must have taken hours for him to get it done. Only the flowers are featured in different shades of deep reds and pinks, everything else colorless or purposefully outlined, leaving some of his tanned skin peeking throughout some part of the tattoo.

“I’ve been here for a little while,” you finish, oblivious to the fact that you should have just lied to save yourself from the conversation that you were now trapped in.

He turns to face you, “Okay, uh. Do you want to take your phone?”

“Oh my god, when did you have these many tattoos?” you fluster shamelessly, raking your eyes over the ink that traveled on his chest and down his arms. It strictly stopped on his pecs, but it didn’t halt you from giving a once-over to his muscular stomach and indented “v” that peeked above his towel.

He quirks a brow at your gawking, “For a few months besides my arms. Are you done being mad now?”

You stand up and head towards his bed to grab your damned phone when you can feel him loom over you. Squeaking in surprise, you turn towards him, “What?”

“Y/N… please don’t leave,” he pleas, and you swear you’ve never heard him use this tone before.

“I was a jerk, I shouldn’t have said that to you. But Taehyung is an asshole and I meant it in a caring way. I don’t want to see you hurting from him anymore,” he says sincerely, “Don’t go.”

And even though this isn’t the right moment and for once, Jungkook is being sweet, the realization hits you.

“Jungkook, are you… jealous of Tae?” you say half-jokingly.

The question itself looks like it punched Kook in the stomach, as his face turns pink and he blinks too many times.

“Why the fuck—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Kookie, do you like me? Is that why you hate Taehyung so much? And in the shower—”

“What do you mean ‘in the shower’?” his face flushes, already knowing the answer.

Shit, you didn’t mean to include that.

“Look, Y/N, I don’t want to ruin anything we have right now because, hell, we live together and it’s already fucking awkward that you like Taehyung and caught me legit getting off just minutes ago,” he starts, somewhat level-headed.

“Kookie, I don’t not like you? You’re just so annoying sometimes and you act like you’re my brother or something and it’s really off-putting, and I mean I find you attractive, super attractive! But I didn’t think you liked me or thought of me just as a friend so I tried to stay away and this is just so surprising to me like—”

More than anything, Jungkook just kisses you so you would stop talking, but then his hand reaches the back of your neck and pushes you in a little and you lay your hands on his wet chest to stable yourself and it just feels so good.

But then you realize what the hell is happening and push him far enough to break the kiss.

“Kookie, wait—” you sigh, but Jungkook’s eyes roll and his hand now travels in your hair and tugs it slightly.

“Stop fucking calling me that,” he growls, and you swear the room is so much hotter than it was ten seconds ago.

His hair is drenched and pushed back off of his forehead, leaking droplets of water onto his shoulders and sliding down his firm body. His eyes are glazed in lust, hooded, and keep flicking between your eyes and your lips. This literal sex god disguised as your roomie left your mind in goo and everything was just so confusing.

“Jungkook?” you respond quietly, secretly hoping to appease his request. You unconsciously reach out to draw circles on his taut stomach, even daring to reach so low to feel the jut of his hipbones.

His eyes flutter at the touch of your dainty hands and closes the distance by pushing his hips against yours. You look back into his eyes, so innocent and Kook has a sudden desire to ruin you right now and show you who you belong to.

He pretends to think for a moment, rolling his head around and showing off his thick neck until he answers, “Mmm, too casual.”

You tilt your head in confusion and tease him a little, “Are you a ‘baby’ kind of person?” He makes a distasteful face and leans in closer.

“I don’t want you calling me any pet names that you give to just anyone either,” he droops his head into the crook of your neck, his close warmth causing you to shudder as he whispers in your ear, “I just want to be yours. So how about ‘daddy’?”

You flash a face of surprise and fail at hiding sheepishness. He chuckles at how rigid your body is; have you really never called someone “daddy” before?

“Yeah, I think I like that. Don’t you, Y/N?” he says, purposefully trying to humiliate you.

Jungkook was crawling under your skin and he knew it, taking pride of his control over you. However, you caught him off guard when you gave him a taste of his own medicine.

You hook your fingers under his towel and purr your most seductive, “Okay, daddy,” and even though it sounds so foreign leaving your mouth, you give Jungkook a run for his money.

He’s utterly stunned for a moment, unaware of how confident you could be but appreciating the second of dominance you had.

Hips still stuck together, you notice your effect has made him very… excited. He grinds his growing bulge into your lower stomach and you gasp in surprise. He tried his hardest to control himself, but it would only be moments before he went animalistic on you.

“Okay, love, I’m going to give you five seconds to decide if you really want this or not,” he says lowly, sliding his large hands underneath your shirt and trailing dangerously close to your breasts.

“Five,” he starts.

It suddenly dawns on you that you have plans with Taehyung, and that you should have been there awhile ago. It also settles in your brain that this is really fucking happening, and that there would be no turning back if you let Jungkook continue.

“Four.”

Your dilemma seems to display on your face because Kook looks worried. He almost looks hurt that you are really contemplating taking Taehyung over him.

“Three?” he questions, and you decide that you don’t need the full five seconds.

You lace your fingers through his wet hair and pull him into your kiss, relieving him of his worries and licking at his lips. He groans at the feeling and digs his fingers into your bare skin, relishing how small and soft you are under his hold.

He pulls away and takes his hands out of your shirt but presses his forehead against yours, “You know what you’re asking for, right? If you think I’m going to fuck you lightly just because I love you, you’re wrong,” he warns.

Although you should be more concerned about how he just confessed to you, you nod your head frantically and decide that you can properly talk about things after he takes care of you.

“Great,” he states, abruptly grabbing your shirt that he gave to you and ripping it apart so vigorously that the buttons fly, admiring the fact you weren’t wearing a bra underneath and immediately sucking marks above your chest.

“What the hell, Kook! That was my favorite shirt!” you whine, but he continues without a care.

“I promise I’ll give you my whole closet if you just shut the fuck up,” he spits, placing his hand on your waist and guiding you down to sit on his bed.

“Lay back,” he instructs, and you do just so, letting your head loll to its side. Contrary to your assumptions, his comforter smells like detergent mixed with his cologne and you wish you could bury your face in it, suddenly appreciating his natural scent.

Laying down like this, you can clearly see the outline of Jungkook’s bulge underneath the towel and you audibly gulp; you wondered how large he was.

Jungkook suddenly latches his hands under your knees and pulls you until your ass reaches the end of the bed, your startled yelps making him chuckle.

Kneeling and leaning his head between your legs, he licks and places kisses on your inner thigh, leaving you gasping in response. You feel yourself getting hot and wet, and you hope Jungkook can’t smell your arousal.

But as if he read your mind, he uses a thumb to circle your clothed cunt and you hiccup at the sudden friction, “You smell so good, Y/N.” In one swift motion, he removes your shorts and throws them across the room. Even though your thong is black, Jungkook can clearly see the growing wet mark and his chest grows with arrogance.

“Jungkook, please do something,” you cry, frustrated with his slow movements.

Pulling your panties to the side with his thumb, he blows cool air onto your heated core and you twitch.

“What did I say about my name?” he questions cockily.

“Fuck, daddy, please eat me out, finger me, anything! I’m begging,” you squeal.

He doesn’t take another second to lick a broad stripe up your folds, properly tasting your juices and humming in approval.

“You’re so sweet, baby,” he says, licking a few more times before wrapping his arms around your thighs so they lay on his shoulders, “get ready.”

You moan shamelessly as he sucks with brutal force, wet slurping sounds flooding the room. The man eats you out like you’re the first thing he’s tasted in weeks, rolling your clit behind his teeth with his tongue then soothing the pain by licking it tenderly. By instinct, your grab his hair for leverage but he doesn’t care.

It doesn’t take long for your stomach to pool with nerves, but as Jungkook feels you twitching in pleasure, he pulls away.

“I didn’t wait two years for you to cum in two minutes, baby. Hold it off,” he threatens, leaving you wriggling in disappointment.

After what he deems to be long enough, he presses his tongue flat against your nub once more, slowly moving in circles as he introduces his middle finger into your slit. You mewl as he hooks it upward, searching for the perfect spot. Once he finds it, you arch your back off the bed and groan.

“Fuck, how are you this tight? I only have one finger in and I can barely move around in here, princess,” he says, resuming his attack on your g-spot and watching you squirm in awe.

Watching him with his eyes sealed shut and jaw clenching as he focuses on your pleasure was a scene you wanted to burn into your memory. Distracted from the visual unfolding before you, he opens his eyes slightly and catches you staring, biting your clit as punishment.

“Ah, fuck! I-I’m too sensitive,” you complain, but ruthless as he was, he counters by adding his ring finger into your folds. You cry at the burn and stimulation.

Removing his mouth from your swollen clit, he slides up so his face is level with yours. He kisses you roughly, forcing you to taste the bittersweet juices he had accumulated by colliding your tongues together. He speeds his hand up, his palm repetitively hitting your sweet spot and fingers curling in.

He drinks up your moans, refusing to take his mouth off yours as he slams a third finger into you, causing you to grunt in discomfort. You grab his wrist, pleading for him to stop, but his strength overwhelms yours by a longshot.

“Kookie, please, it hurts,” you whimper but he only clicks his tongue.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry, but daddy has to do this. I won’t fit otherwise,” he sympathizes. You look at him, puzzled.

After scissoring his fingers in you enough so you’re properly stretched, he responds to your curiosity by removing his towel and you’re honestly afraid.

“Oh, Jungkook. That’s not going to fit in me,” you exclaim. He uses the juices on his fingers to pump his impressive length a few times, his hands barely able to encompass his whole girth. The tip curved slightly to your satisfaction, head a pretty pink and leaking precum.

“Yes it will, sweetheart. I know you can take it,” he coos, “can you do a favor for me now? Will you turn around?” he questions, helping you shift so your head was towards the edge this time, your view now consisting of a close-up on his cock. Once settled, you realized what he wanted and started to voice your denial.

“Shh, baby, you’ll be fine. Just a little, okay? Keep fingering yourself for me,” he commands, using his hand to position his dick at your mouth, “open up.”

Reluctant for a second, you obey by opening your mouth enough for him to place his tip between your lips. His head was velvety, closing your eyes as you maneuver your lips around him to suckle on it. He hisses at the feeling but keeps himself from moving while you lick and taunt his slit, eventually enveloping more of his shaft into your mouth.

With this, he slowly begins to move in and out of you, letting you adjust to his size as he gets deeper and deeper into your throat. Once he builds speed, you rest your hands on his thick thighs, warning him; as if the action sets him off, he grips both of your wrists with his hand firmly and starts to fuck your throat harshly.

You gag at the sudden change of pace and his hips stutter but you regain your composure and allow him to snap his hips faster and faster. You occasionally swallow and hum and he groans loudly, his noises of ecstasy setting your loins ablaze.

Your eyes prickle with tears, falling down your soft face and Jungkook thinks you’re the prettiest thing ever. You feel his cock harden in your mouth and you use your tongue to lick his underside, welcoming his climax.

He stops right before he cums, pulling out quickly and twitching as you gasp for air. In the midst of him slamming into your mouth, he managed to split your bottom lip, blood and saliva smeared across your mouth; mixed in with your tears from earlier, you looked like the epitome of sex. He moans at the sight and grabs his phone from his computer desk.

“God, you look so pretty when you’re wrecked,” you hear the shutter of his camera and your eyes snap open, “I really should show my friends this, you know. They all think you’re so erotic and sexy. They’d be stoked to know they let me fuck your throat as hard as I did.”

You glare at him, “P-Piss off.”

Stroking himself, he nods his head, “Move.”

You sit up and adjust yourself so your head is laying on his pillows, Kook following closely as his presses kisses to your breasts and hovers above. His body heat radiates onto you while water drips from his hair and the mix of hot-and-cold with your heady lust is making everything feel like cloud nine and you just wish Jungkook would have told you he liked you earlier because you were missing out on so much.

Jungkook, totally infatuated with leaving every inch of your ribcage covered in wet kisses, eventually comes to his senses and sits up. He grabs both of your ankles and hoists them in the air, transferring them to one hand and using the other to hook onto your panties and slides them off in one swift action. He stares for a second, admiring the way your ass looks with extended, thin legs displayed only for him, and it takes every ounce of restraint to keep from eating you out again.

Using your semi-wet panties, you briefly see the cogs in his mind spin before he leans over you again, “Once I start, I promise you I won’t stop, but this is to keep your pretty little hands from interfering” he says, using your thongs to tie your wrists together and the burn of the fabric makes you wince.

“Keep your hands above your head, got it?” he says intimidatingly, and you nod in agreement.  With this, he places your legs above his shoulder and makes eye contact.

“Hold on to that headboard for me, yeah baby?” he says with a pant, aligning his dick with your entrance. You don’t quite understand but you do so, struggling slightly with the bondage.

He doesn’t take any interest in “going slow”, and immediately shoves half of his length in and starts at a fast pace, causing you to mewl on impact and grip the wood of his bedframe firmly.

“O-Oh my god! Jungkook, d-daddy, holy shit,” you pant, feeling Kook’s thick cock fight its way through your tight walls, pulsating as he pumps within you.

He growls with each thrust, proud of the moans that spill out of your mouth because of what he’s doing to your body.

“How is it, Y/N? Tell me what it feels like,” he ponders, varying between quick, sharp thrusts and skilled grinding.

“It feels so, so good. Ah—you fuck me so well, I already wanna cum,” you admit, your pussy leaking profusely as evidence. You throw your arms around his neck, raking your nails across his back and he hisses in sweet pain.

When he finally starts to speed back up, you hear a continuous chime in the distance. Focusing on it a little more, you notice it’s your phone buzzing right beside your head and your stomach coils.

“It’s Taehyung,” Jungkook growls, slowing his movements to a dangerously slow rate, “go ahead and answer it for me, baby.”

There was a change of tone in the air; a sudden animalistic spike of arousal that seemed to stem from Kook, and his cocky grin didn’t ease you at all.

“W-What?” you stutter, horrified at his question.

In an instant, his hand is around your throat and he squeezes just enough to make it hard for you to catch your breath. Meanwhile, he slid his dick completely out of you, leaving you clenching around air.

“I fucking said to answer it, bitch. Or I’ll cum right here on your stomach,” he growls, and you cry in frustration at the sudden loss of contact. When he raises an eyebrow to question if you’ll listen, you bob your head to show your subservience and struggle to grab your phone with hands tied together.

Unfortunately, you manage to answer it in time and hold it up to your ear, “H-Hello?”

Smug with your obedience, Jungkook eases into you once more, this time, not stopping until he’s buried to the hilt and you have to bite your lip to the point of reopening your wound to keep your cries in.

“Y/N? Where are you? I thought you were coming over, kitten,” Tae drawls. Jungkook makes a face of disgust at his pet name for you and snaps his hips viciously, making you squirm at the action.

“Oh! Uh, about that… I can’t anymore,” Kook releases his hold on your neck and instead kneads a breast, giving you a wink, “I forgot… I had to do some work stuff.”

“Aw, you should’ve told me, I would’ve come over instead,” he pouts. Jungkook suddenly dips down to take a nipple in his teeth, suckling and biting it to hardness while gliding smoothly into your g-spot.

“It’s okay! Um, I’ll just text you later, okay?” you attempt to close the conversation. Jungkook, however, doesn’t like how rude you’re being to Taehyung and slams so hard into your core that you drop your phone, letting out a loud whine of ecstasy.

“Y/N? Are you okay? What happened?” you faintly hear Tae’s voice through the phone. Trying to end the call, Jungkook beats you to it and snatches it from the bed, holding to your ear and mouthing a “don’t touch”.

“Ha! Yeah, sorry, I dropped my phone.”

“Okay… Are you sure? You sound really out of breath,” he voices with concern.

You don’t pay too much attention to the question as Jungkook readjusts so your knees are up to your head and his face is right next to your ear, using this position to slide deeper into you, kissing the end of your walls. Sliding all the way out until just the tip remains, he rockets his hips forward and repeats the cycle with diligent speed.

You moan flagrantly, hiccupping with every snap of his hips and burying your nails into the wood of his bed once more.

“What the—What the fuck is going on, Y/N?” you hear Tae seethe through the phone.

Kook bites your lobe once before grunting quietly in your ear, “Tell him whose slut you are now, yeah? Tell him how much better I fuck you than he does,” he dares.

You whip your head towards him, looking for any hint of sarcasm and flush when you realize that he’s serious.

“What? No!” you hiss.

Jaw clenching and seething at your insubordination, he yanks himself out of you and manhandles you onto your stomach, lifting your ass up and you have no room to protest when your fucking hands are tied.

As if you weren’t humiliated enough, you unexpectedly feel a slap on your bare ass, causing you to cry in discomfort. Jungkook spanks you again, not even stopping to soothe the pain before whispering a, “Fucking say it.”

Simultaneously, he buries his cock deep inside of you, forcing all of his length into your tight hole and making you shriek into the sheets. Squelching noises echo throughout the room and your mewls are filled with pure bliss as Jungkook fills you to the brim.

As he holds the phone to your ear once more, you’re too fucked-out to care anymore, whining a, “Taehyungie… I’m sorry, but Jungkook is fucking me so well right now,” another snap makes you whimper euphorically, “it feels too good, ah! So much better than anyone has ever filled me…” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles darkly and kisses your spine, licking stripes up your shoulders. You can hear Taehyung startle for a second, genuinely confused and angry before you hear the tone indicating that he hung up. Kook, joyed to know the distraction was gone, chucks your phone across the room and replaces his hands to grip your hips.

His fingers are digging so hard into your skin that you’re sure bruises will appear the next morning, but you welcome every mark he’ll give you. You want the pain, the pleasure, everything Jungkook gifts. You want Jungkook.

Solely focused on your pleasure now, Kook pounded into you with so much force that his bed croaked with every piercing punch to your sweet spot. You whimpered and whined and howled and cussed profanities, all sweet music to his ears.

Even though your hands were bound, you attempted to touch your clit, wanting to send yourself over the edge as soon as possible. You didn’t know how much longer you would last.

Before reaching your pelvis, Jungkook slaps your ass hard and you scream, his hand now pushing your back down even further.

“I know you can cum untouched, baby. Let daddy finish you,” he snarls, so you let your hands fall limp under you.

Jungkook watched as his length disappeared into you, your arousal dripping between your thighs and all over his lower stomach. He has a desire to watch you unfold in front of him, and repeatedly fucks against your cervix until he feels you tighten around his cock. He groans at the feeling and speeds up as you start to wail.

Your orgasm comes, all strings snapping and electricity shooting throughout your body as Jungkook strains to keep your limbs still. You’re seeing stars and feel incredibly light; you don’t think you’ve ever came this hard.

Jungkook feels it too, sadistically pumping into you and making you sob in overstimulation. When you attempt to pull away from him, his grip forces you back.

“You’re going to take all of my cock, so stop fucking whining,” he barks, and you shake your head.

He ignores you, pistoling into your core anyway. The liquid you excreted from your previous climax made it easier for Jungkook to fuck you faster than before, and it doesn’t take long before he’s spilling into you.

He whines into your back, squirting his last spurts of semen before softening and taking himself out. Without his support, your legs fall and he topples over beside you, panting and wiping sweat off his forehead.

Your body writhed in its high, taking a few minutes to slow your breathing and roll over to face Jungkook.

“You okay?” he asks, scooting closer to your worn-out body and removing your hair from your face.

Your eyes were heavy and it was hard to stay awake but you endured a single nod.

“No no, baby. Stay awake. C’mon, get up,” he starts, but you groaned in exhaustion. You didn’t think you could move for the rest of your life.

Jungkook sighed, heaving himself out of bed and leaving the room. Although drifting in and out of consciousness, you’re aware that he left and you can’t help but feel used. Was this all just some sort of gimmick to get you to sleep with him? You knew better than to think this way, but you had lingering anxiety anyway.

Kook comes back a few minutes later; seeing you in your sleepy state, he rolls and scoops you up into his arms bridal-style, escorting you out of his room. You wake up enough to realize he’s holding you and you figure he’s taking you to your own bed.

You pout, “Why didn’t you let me sleep in your bed, you little shit?”

“Because we’re not sleeping right now. You smell like sweat and cum and—gross, you’re leaking cum everywhere and—we’re going to take a bath. Is that okay with you, princess?” he drawls with sarcasm.

“What? We are?” you say, utterly stunned.

He doesn’t answer as he slips you into the tub, the water on the verge of being too hot, but still bearable. He slips in behind you, placing his legs on either side of your body and easing in with a satisfied moan. You feel… awkward.

“You look uncomfortable,” he says blatantly, “is everything hitting you now?”

Jungkook was worried that you would change your mind after fucking, that you wouldn’t have any lingering feelings besides lust but he acted nonchalantly, preparing to take the worst.

“No! Well, yes. I don’t know,” you admit.

You can feel his stature sulk a little, disappointed that he was probably right.

“I just don’t think I’ve ever had post-sex care,” you say, “Taehyung normally just falls asleep or leaves.”

Jungkook seethes at this, already imaging thousands of different ways he could murder the bastard with his bare hands.

“Do you normally take care of all the girls you fuck?” you question out of pure curiosity.

“Sometimes? I don’t know. I haven’t been with a girl in a really long time. Not since we’ve lived together, I guess,” he responds without hesitation. You perk at this, searching your brain for any time you’ve caught Jungkook with a girl at home. You’ve never actually seen any, but you figured he would have when you weren’t here, at least.

Jungkook can probably sense your confusion because he laughs.

“I’ve been waiting to get in your pants for years,” he teases, planting kisses on your shoulders, “it was so fucking worth it.”

You flick his forehead, making him glare at you.

You rest your head on his chest, the water finally cooling to a comfortable temperature. You can hear Jungkook’s heart thumping in his ribcage.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Kookie.”

“It’s whatever.”

“I hate you for making me answer that call though.”

A/N: After they showered they probably went at it again and went out on dates and saw taehyung at least ONCE so (-: happily ever after

Wow! You made it!

If you’re that one friend, text me right now and tell me how good it was.

If you’re not, I hope you enjoyed love you xoxoxoxoxo.